Intervention
by Summer39
Summary: This is my first attempt an alternate universe take on Battle of the Planets. It deals with angst and attempted suicide. I implore anyone not to read it if the subject matter offends. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first attempt; an "alternate universe" take on Battle of the Planets. It deals with angst and attempted suicide. I implore anyone not to read it if the subject matter offends. "Battle of the Planets" belongs to Sandy Frank, Inc. and "Gatchaman" to Tatsunoko Productions. Rating changed for content._

**Intervention**

The beautiful young woman continued her bedside vigil, sitting along side the handsome young man whose deep blue eyes remained nonexistent to his surroundings. He was lying in a state of unconsciousness, as he had been for the past few days at Center Neptune's medical facility. "This silence is deafening," thought the young woman pushing away a tassel of copper-colored hair off of her commanding officer's forehead. She observed the cannula seeping oxygen into the still figure's nostrils; heard the mild hum of the intravenous machine pumping life fluid into the young man's body to keep him hydrated. Doctor Baxter did say he could awaken at anytime. At least that was encouraging. Princess, the young woman, observed her CO's breathing pattern – even and unlabored. Mark was the young man whose side Princess hadn't left since he was stabilized.

Princess' sea green eyes took in his returning skin color, to its original sun kissed hue. She remembered the pasty blue pallor that had once occupied his appearance and she shivered. Her gaze took in his angular nose, full mouth, and square chin offset by a determined jaw. Despite the cause of Mark's current state, a small smile flitted about Princess' lips. With the tip of her index finger, she touched her own lips, and then placed the soft tip of her finger over Mark's mouth.

"Our first kiss," Princess said in a low throaty voice.

She then reached for Mark's hand and braided her fingers through his once firm, now limp, digits. Silently, Princess hoped her actions would awaken him from his deep sleep. Suddenly tears began to form in the young woman's eyes as she looked at him, starving for his arrival to the living world. The realization of what Mark had "attempted" to do hit – hard!

"How could you do this to yourself?" Princess cried as the dam finally burst, and the tears began to fall. She placed one hand over her tired eyes while the other hand remained intertwined with Mark's, refusing to relinquish her grasp. She was afraid to let go.

"After everything G-Force has been through, everything we're fighting for…," Princess sobbed. "How could you even think of suicide?" she almost choked on the words. The young woman then lowered her head, her jet black hair a silky curtain, now hiding a face etched in anguish.

Many minutes passed before her crying subsided. It suddenly dawned on her that she had no one to comfort her; remembering that particular job was her commander's. Releasing his hand, Princess reluctantly stood up and wiped at her tear stained face. She stared at the abundant sea life visible from Mark's hospital room via the thickened plexiglass. The view of the aquamarine water seemed to calm her and for another few minutes Princess allowed herself the luxury of being someplace else. "Any place," she thought, "except here."

Princess then sighed and turned her attention back to the young man. The young man, who unknowingly, had captured her heart. Once again a lock of chestnut colored hair fell roguishly over Mark's brow. For the second time Princess reached out to move the down-soft hair aside.

"I'm not giving up on you Mark, so don't you give up either," she implored as she returned to her reserved spot next to him on his hospital bed.

The figure, that had been lying in an unconscious state for the past few days, had heard the young woman's voice. The scent of lavender was drifting into his nostrils and for a moment Mark had believed he had taken his memories of Princess with him. No one else had the presence to penetrate his psyche the way she had. He then felt his body lying in a bed with crisp, cool sheets against his skin. Mark then realized that he hadn't succeeded in carrying out what he'd originally planned. Tears stung his eyes; he had been saved from darkness. Mark then took a deep breath, the fresh air he had tried to extinguish at one time, began to burn his lungs.

Princess flinched and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. Tears of relief had begun to fill her emerald-like eyes. Mark groaned and slowly began to lift his heavy eyelids open, taking in the room's bright light. His body felt unfamiliar to him and for several seconds he didn't believe he could move at all. Mark's neck then allowed him to turn toward the source of the lavender scent. There was Princess, sitting at his side, giving him a warm and grateful smile. She leaned over to kiss Mark's cheek, her petal-soft lips brushing the side of his mouth while cupping his face in her hands.

It was then Mark reached up to place his hands over hers, his ocean blue gaze never leaving Princess' beautiful face. He spoke softly but directly at her so there would be no misunderstanding.

"You should have let me die."

I realize this is darker than what was shown on TV, but I write on the dark side occasionally. Again I appreciate constructive criticism. I figure it's the only way I'm going to improve.


	2. Chapter 2

_First I wish to express my sincere thanks to Jen23, GoldAngel2, and Whiteswan for their support and encouragement. I realize this isn't "standard" BotP but I believe part of writing is exhibiting freedom of expression and imagination. I've made changes by adding some years to the characters, giving them last names, etc…I intend to see this story through. As mentioned before Battle of the Planets belongs to Sandy Frank, Inc. and Gatchaman to Tatsunoko Productions. _

**CHAPTER 2**

Mark continued to stare into the luminous green eyes before him. Princess shook her head in disbelief as her hands began to coil away from Mark's handsome face. Reluctantly she stood up from his hospital bed but kept her focus on him. The surge of joyful emotion that she'd felt at his awakening was now being replaced with a mixture of sorrow and confusion.

Feeling his strength returning, Mark began to maneuver himself slowly to a sitting position. His cerebonic enhancement began to make up for the previous shut down his body had endured. Visually, things were still fragmented but the young man was acutely aware of his surroundings – and he didn't like it one bit. Known as "The Eagle," Mark's perceptive blue eyes took in his current situation. The cool interior of Center Neptune's hospital room, the surrounding plexiglass with its undersea view of aquatic life, the intravenous machine with its catheter extending toward the prominent vein in his left arm, the feel of the hospital gown against his skin, the rush of air seeping into his nostrils.

With his now heightened sense of awareness, Mark snatched the oxygen's tubing out from his nose.

He angrily repeated what he'd said to the young woman only moments before. **"You should have let me die!"** Mark said, this time enunciating each word. His eyes were cobra-like as he took out his frustration on the only other person in the room.

Princess straightened. She recognized that tone but firmly stood her ground. "We weren't going to let you die Mark," Princess responded quietly but her green eyes flashed. If it was an argument he wanted, the Swan, as she was known as, was ready for him.

Mark took in the young woman's stance; her benevolence didn't go unnoticed. Mark saw the mass of jet curls spilling about her shoulders, the indignant pink pout of her full lips, and the arms crossed in front of her chest. Briefly Mark allowed the sweep of his eyes over Princess' body to turn predatory. For a nanosecond, he envisioned his lips covering hers and he doused the thought just as quickly as it had surfaced. Weakness was something he couldn't afford to project.

"Damn it, you had no right to interfere! I made a choice, a conscious choice…!" Mark shouted as he lifted a hand to his chest but the pull of the IV tubing was just another reminder of where he was. Princess reached for him before he could snatch the catheter from his arm. "Get this thing out of me now!" Mark bellowed.

Princess captured Mark's left hand and sat on the bed next to him in a fleeting attempt to soothe him. "Mark will you calm down? You're only going to make things worse behaving this way. Let us help you."

She was only inches away from his face, close enough to see those startling indigo blue eyes of his. Briefly Princess succumbed to there depths only to be snatched back to reality when the panel doors to Mark's hospital room slid open. It was then that she gasped for air.

In walked Chief William Anderson; he was G-Force's mentor and the head of the IFPP (Intergalactic Federation of Peaceful Planets). In close proximity were the remaining members of G-Force: Jason Devereaux (the Condor), Jack "Tiny" Harper (the Owl), and Keye Anderson (the Swallow).

"The monitor alerted us of your awakening Mark," Chief Anderson stated. He looked at his adopted daughter sitting next to the young man he considered a son.

"Well the cast of characters is complete!" Mark spat out. "But I'm not interested in playing the role of the misunderstood son! I intend to leave!" Mark withdrew his hands away from Princess after she succeeded in removing the IV from his arm. She had just placed a bandage over the site. She flinched at his abruptness and the look of rejection was visible on her face.

It was Keye, the younger team member, who came to his sister's aid. "Hey, don't treat Prin that way! If it weren't for her you wouldn't even be here!" the teenager retorted.

He cautiously approached his CO even though Mark remained in his hospital bed, rubbing at his bandaged arm.

Mark's eyes blackened as he gave Keye the once over and an almost feral grin formed on his face. "You know, considering the fact that you were conceived in a petri dish you've got a pretty big mouth!"

The verbal jab stained the boy's cheeks a fiery red and his eyes went opaque. Everyone knew Keye was sensitive about his 'lineage.' Turning on his heel, he quickly retreated from the room of shocked onlookers. Even Chief Anderson was stunned at Mark's rude outburst and found himself rooted to the spot, unable to go after his adopted son.

"That was uncalled for you bastard and you know it!" Tiny remarked glaring at the figure still sitting on the bed. The big man followed suit and left the room, hoping to find Keye.

With his hands in his pockets, it was Jason who walked forward and gave Mark his own disapproving look. He opened his mouth to speak but Princess stood up and placed a hand on Jason's arm, giving him a pleading look. Staring at Princess' vivid green eyes was to Jason's undoing. He responded by placing a reassuring hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Mark witnessed this exchange between the two of them and grimaced, turning his head away. He then flung his legs out of bed and placed his feet flat on the floor only to discover an odd piece of metal around his left ankle.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

Finding his voice, Chief Anderson responded brusquely. "It's an electronic sensor. It gauges your movement, tells us where you are. We don't want there to be anymore mishaps considering what just happened recently," the older man stated staring directly ahead and looking at nothing in particular.

"If you think I'm dealing with this bullshit...," Mark began laughingly but without a trace of humor. His sentence was cut off by another figure entering the room.

"Commander Beckham you have no say in the matter!" stated Dr. Samuel Baxter, chief medical director of Center Neptune's hospital. The white coated figure took his place next to Chief Anderson.

Mark stood up quickly; too quickly, and almost lost his balance had it not been for his best friend, Jason. He clutched at Mark's shoulders but immediately the angry young man flung his arms away.

Jason, exasperated, waved at empty air space. " Oh come on man! Enough already! Will you just give it up?"

Mark responded by walking toward the room's closet in search of his clothes. Princess stood in a corner with her back turned, unable to face the turmoil at this point.

Chief Anderson decided to take control of the situation and walked towards the belligerent figure still in search of his belongings.

"You aren't going anywhere Mark. You've caused us enough distress these past several months and your actions recently have only confirmed some things that I and the team have been in denial about."

Mark pretended to ignore the authoritative figure speaking to him as he discovered a duffle bag at the back end of the closet.

"You are in desperate need of treatment Mark," the chief continued. " You've been missing for several days and when you were located it was in an area of this city known for it's high level of Spectran activity. You not only compromised your identity and your life but quite possibly the lives of your team mates as well."

Mark stopped his rustling through his duffle bag and closed his eyes at that statement; his spine had gone rigid.

" It's because of your actions that Dr. Baxter and myself feel it best that you be confined to Center Neptune to obtain the appropriate treatment," Anderson finished sternly.

Princess turned at this and met Jason's eyes across the room.

"I don't need any treatment," Mark venomously replied. "You and Baxter can go to hell as far as I'm concerned!"

Dr. Baxter intervened. "Precisely why you are to remain in this facility for the duration of your treatment! At this point, the behavior you are exhibiting is undisciplined and dangerous! These past several months, you've headed mission after mission that ended in failure secondary to your cutthroat tactics. You've been on a kamikaze trip. Drinking yourself into a stupor and now experimenting with drugs. Recently you've managed to consume an almost lethal combination of barbiturates that are still under investigation by our research department! We don't even know how you got them in your possession! To make matters worse," the doctor motioned toward Princess, " Officer Anderson found you in Sector 9 of Bay City, and area swarming with Spectran operatives in some sleazy hotel with a prostitute; I'm almost certain a Spectran agent!" Dr. Baxter approached Mark and stood directly before him. " As far as I'm concerned you have shown nothing but a waste of human capacity but I remember the young boy who grew up to be the fine young man to lead this unit and I intend to see to it that he returns." The physician was shorter in stature but his presence seemed to hover above Mark's head.

Mark turned his attention toward his team mates. Jason stood with his arms folded and began rocking on the heel of his shoes. Princess stood with her hands at her sides. Her face projected a fierce determination. Mark's blue gaze locked with Princess' green orbs and for several moments silence dominated the room.

Princess then spoke up directing her attention to Chief Anderson. "Sir, request permission to speak with you and Dr. Baxter privately." The female officer motioned towards the panel doors and already the trio was headed outside of Mark's hospital room.

Mark then removed his hospital gown and threw it to the floor. He returned to the bed and began putting on his blue jeans, mindful of the electronic device his ankle was encased in.

Jason spoke from across the room, standing where Princess stood only moments before; staring at the ocean's depths via the plexiglass.

The Condor remarked, " She's going to bat for you. You realize that don't you?"

Mark snorted an expletive as he continued to dress.

In the hallway, Princess began to plead her case to the two authority figures. "I believe

Commander Beckham would only continue to exhibit antagonistic behavior in this environment. I have a plan that might diffuse some of the tension and maybe make him more receptive to treatment."

"What's that Princess," Anderson questioned.

"Allow Mark… Commander Beckham to stay with me," she answered.

"Absolutely not," the chief responded in father-mode.

"Wait Bill let's hear the girl out," Dr. Baxter returned.

Princess continued. "Thank you doctor. Mark is so enraged. He's full of turmoil. All of this began right after discovering Colonel Cronus was actually his father. Then he had to deal with his death. His behavior disintegrated after that. I'm certain all of this ties in together with his suffering."

"I will not have that young man living under the same roof with you," Anderson responded, his voice rising an octave.

"Mark already has the mechanism on to alert you should he try to abort. He can't remove it. He'll still be responsible for obtaining treatment and therapy as scheduled. But he has to feel as if though he has some level of independence. I think he'll be more receptive to this rather than being confined to Center Neptune. His energy and effort would be spent on getting out of here," Princess concluded, her eyes darting between the two men.

Anderson looked at his colleague for support and frowned as he noticed the older man rubbing his beard.

"Sam you can't be serious about considering this. You said so yourself that Mark's behavior…," the chief was almost appalled.

Dr. Baxter raised his hand and smiled at Anderson. "Bill, your daughter has somewhat of an advantage. What 22 year old male wouldn't respond to the charms of a beautiful 21 year old woman?" Then the doctor turned serious. " We don't need Mark fighting us Bill.

Quite frankly, we don't have the time. Zoltar has been quiet for months and the sooner we get that young man into treatment the better. I realize this is unorthodox, almost unethical way to handle this but this is an unusual situation. Young lady, you are going to have your hands full. Are you willing to take on this responsibility?"

Princess responded, "Mark's life is at stake. He means a lot to me…and to the team."

Anderson contemplated his daughter's confession and then reluctantly agreed by answering, "Alright we'll make the arrangements for his release."

Princess breathed a sigh of relief mixed with gratitude and gave her surrogate father a brief kiss on his cheek. The doctor raised an eyebrow as Princess retreated and the chief's face warmed under Dr. Baxter's scrutiny. The old man's face crinkled into a tiny smile.

Princess entered the soon to be vacant hospital room. Mark, now wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans turned his attention toward the young woman.

Jason eyed her questioningly. "What's the verdict," the Condor asked.

Princess lips had suddenly gone dry when she met Mark's intense gaze and she allowed her tongue to moisten them. Mark's eyes blazed when the Swan spoke softly.

"You're coming home with me."

_Thanks again to the "Encouraging Trio." Again constructive criticism is welcomed and I'd appreciate your reviews._


	3. Chapter 3

_Again I wish to express my thanks to Jen23,GoldAngel2, Whiteswan, and Rottridge for all of their encouragement and support. I don't believe there would have been a Chapter 3 if it hadn't been for you guys. I've taken more liberties with the characters of "BoTP" and decided to change the rating for the use of language and subject matter but nothing outrageous. Thanks to all of you who read this story so far, over 200 hits! As usual, the characters don't belong to me!_

**CHAPTER 3**

The prostitute hurriedly threw her belongings into a small suitcase. Deciding to take only what she needed; she knew she wouldn't have time to give her small efficiency apartment a final once-over right before she left Sector 9 of Bay City for good. Her thoughts were erratic. "If I hurry I just might make the shuttle flight headed for planet Riga," she thought. She was considering the possibilities. Perspiration beaded upon her brow, desperation eating away at her nerves like acid.

"How could I have been so stupid?" Valeria thought to herself. "To confide in Garrett; I can't believe I could have been so incredibly foolish! I never should have told him I slept with that IFPP agent and literally handed him over to that brunette!"

The front door of Valeria's apartment shattered into splinters. The force of the blast rocketed the young woman into the nearest wall, her screams drowning in the violent chaos while the other residents on the same floor fled the building. Valeria landed in a heap, clinging to a now dislocated shoulder.

Two towering male figures stepped over the threshold, each gripping an arsenal that had destroyed the front door and caused damage to her physically. Recognizing the small Spectran insignia on the lapels of their dark coats, Valeria cowered in fear. The horrific pain she felt radiating from her shoulder couldn't compare to the monumental terror of watching Zoltar, leader of planet Spectra, step slowly and deliberately towards her. Well over six feet, he was wearing a black suit; his sinister figure cloaked in a crimson cape. His face was now exposed, revealing a translucent hue, something the alien rarely allowed anyone to see. Zoltar's eyes were a prism of colors, due in part to his shape shifting abilities. He had the power to change into any being he chose at will, be it male or female. His hair was a platinum mane showering past his shoulder blades. Zoltar looked almost regal, with his aristocratic nose hovering above a set of thin blood red lips.

The Spectran leader motioned for his cohorts to pick up the terrified young woman off of the floor to stand before him, mindless of the pain she was suffering from her upper extremity. Zoltar looked around the room and noticed the small suitcase at the foot of the bed. He licked his lips before speaking, almost as if though he were going to devour the frightened woman. Valeria knew Zoltar's reputation was that of predator and she was now his prey.

"Were you going somewhere Valeria?" Zoltar spoke in a demonic alto tone. His long gloved hand captured the prostitute's chin forcing her to look at him, his eyes narrowing.

Valeria choked, "Lord Zoltar I beg you to let me…let me explain!" Her now swollen lips were quivering.

"No explanations are necessary Valeria," the alien interrupted. "You just aren't a very good whore!" Zoltar's grasp on her chin was cutting, the discomfort overwhelming. "You bitch! All you had to do was lie flat on your back, enjoy the ride, and get the information I requested! I thought you informed me this man you came into contact with was the son of Cronus and that you had succeeded in killing him!" Zoltar's breath was like sulfur burning into Valeria's skin. "Imagine my surprise when I'm informed that Cronus' bastard still lives! Had it not been for Cronus, Spectra's plans using the X-3 Doomsday weapon might have been carried out! Cronus' death did please me but I am convinced his son is not only an IFPP agent but the leader of G-Force as well!"

"After having sex with him I …I couldn't get him to divulge any information to me…even under the influence of the drugs I gave him! He paid me to assist in his suicide! I gave him a large dose of the derivative but…but we were interrupted! A brunette rushed in! She knew the agent and…and threatened to kill me! I had no choice but to comply!" Valeria cried.

Zoltar abruptly released the injured prostitute then turned on his heels, waving his hand for his henchman to release her. Valeria crumbled to the floor.

Zoltar registered this while stroking his chin. "Undoubtedly this woman was an agent as well. Luckily for me I have someone seeking her whereabouts." The wicked being then turned back to the battered figure beneath him.

Valeria stuttered, "Please…please forgive me Lord Zoltar! I beg you!" She was crying uncontrollably.

"Valeria," Zoltar announced, "You've wasted my time." He then turned to his henchman and commanded, "See to it she doesn't waste anyone else's." A sweep of gunfire riddled Valeria's body; death was unforgiving.

* * *

A troubled Chief William Anderson now sat behind his desk at the IFPP (Intergalactic Federation of Peaceful Planets) building, looking over Commander Mark Beckham's file.

Remembering Mark as a child and now as the evasive young man he had become since discovering his father's identity, only to witness his death, had occupied his every thought. Anderson pulled at the side drawer of his desk and removed an old photo of the team from several years before, right at the start of the G-Force project. A small smile came to his face while he fingered the picture of his younger wards. Dressed in their numbered T-shirts, the kids had formed a pyramid. Keye was on top of Princess and Mark's backs, the couple on top of Jason and Tiny. Anderson laughed remembering Jason's remark, "Do we really have to dress like quintuplets? I mean it is the new millennium already!" The others agreed and Anderson caved in to their request. The team's ability to transmute into BirdStyle was programmed solely through the use of their cerebonic implants and wrist communicators. Mark's communicator had been revoked right before his disappearance. Its place was in Chief Anderson's drawer.

A small cough interrupted the chief's train of thought and he then looked up to find his friend and colleague, Dr. Sam Baxter, eyeing him with concern.

"Are you alright Bill? I was just on my way out for the evening and noticed your office door was opened." The doctor was carrying a light coat and briefcase.

"Just thinking about the kids Sam," Anderson remarked. "I keep asking myself how in the hell did we get here?" He replaced the dated photo back in the side drawer of his desk. Anderson then removed his glasses and rubbed tired eyes with a thumb and index finger.

"I know, I know. And Mark of all people," the doctor answered. "Ken should be here for that son of his."

Chief Anderson winced at the reference to Mark's father and purposely changed the subject. "Any news on the drug Mark ingested and its effects?" Anderson asked as he replaced his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You know what I know Bill. Spectra has manufactured a synthetic derivative with a potency higher than that of heroin. We're trying to pinpoint the substances main chemical make-up. Thank God Princess managed to get Mark to us in time. I'm hoping our technology, along with his cerebonic enhancements, was able to rid him of the toxins he digested."

"Hoping?" the chief noted, his brows rising.

"Bill, Mark could still go into withdrawal," Dr. Baxter responded quietly. "I explained the possibility of this happening to you before."

Chief Anderson frowned, "How is Princess supposed to deal with that? I knew I never should've allowed him to stay with her!"

"Princess is trained to handle this Bill. I'm certain if she feels Mark's symptoms are life threatening, she'll contact us. We agreed we couldn't keep him at Center Neptune given his behavior. He'd only fight us. He's also wearing the sensor to his ankle should he try to flee. I'm hoping, should Mark go through withdrawal, it might be enough for that young man to make a complete turn around. We'll give him day or two to adjust to his new surroundings and then he'll return here for his sessions with Dr. Benjamin, the psychologist I referred. She should be able to help him."

"Why are you throwing those two together Sam? You and I both know fraternization within the unit is prohibited." Anderson rebuked.

"They're young and human Bill, not robots. Cutting off human contact can be just as damaging as cutting off a limb. I praise you for how you've raised them. They've been highly trained as Earth's best defense team. But they are also young adults. Let them exercise that right and see what becomes of them, Mark and Princess particularly."

Dr. Baxter eyed his younger colleague thoughtfully once more. "It's a stupid policy anyway. Haven't you ever allowed yourself to fall for someone before?"

Suddenly, Chief Anderson, his eyes downcast, reminisced about a young dark haired beauty with powder blue eyes from his past as a student at the International Science Organization (ISO) Academy. Maria York was so beautiful, intelligent, and full of life. Anderson remembered loving her so much. But Maria fell for a young and flashy fighter pilot in the academy's defense division. The pilot was his best friend, Ken Beckham, Mark's father. Just as quickly as the remembrance of Maria came to mind, Anderson dispelled it. He responded to Dr. Baxter simply, "That was a long time ago."

* * *

Sitting in the front passenger seat of Jason's car, Princess noticed Jason constantly peering into his rearview mirror catching glimpses of Mark in the back seat. Both young men were wearing sunglasses but she was almost certain they were staring at each other. The perceptive young woman felt as if though something was silently being communicated between Mark and Jason and she couldn't quite put her fingers on it.

They arrived at a split level beach house, brick colored with beige trim, right off of the coastal highway. Princess' motorcycle and small SUV were parked within the house's garage. Mark was on full alert once again and spoke to Princess accusingly. "I thought we were going to your place."

Jason placed the car into park. Princess then turned to Mark before answering him, her dark hair lifting slightly from the ocean's breeze. She didn't seem annoyed by his amibivalence.

"Mark," she began, "I'm staying here until the renovations at Jill's Diner are complete. This is her place. She agreed to let me use it." And with that proceeded to get out of the car.

The young men followed Princess up the low staircase leading towards the house's main entrance. Mark, carrying his duffle bag, again became aware of the electronic sensor his ankle was encased in as he walked. Though the device was light weight, it felt like an anchor on his being. Silently, he cursed both Chief Anderson and Dr. Baxter.

The trio walked in after gaining entrance inside. The house consisted of a living room, a den, and a nice sized kitchen which led out to a deck. Though not extremely spacious the place was airy and comfortable enough for two people to live in.

"There are two bedrooms in the back," Princess said. "Yours is off to the left Mark." Placing a hand on Mark's arm she spoke to him directly. "Let me get your room ready." She then left both Jason and Mark alone.

A long pause followed.

They turned towards each other, the face off beginning. Mark removed his sunglasses. Jason mimicked the act, removing his own sunglasses.

Mark spoke first. "Out with it Jason. You've been chomping at the bit since we left the hospital." He folded his arms in front of his broad chest, sighing as if though he were bored.

Jason frowned at this act of nonchalance. "Alright shithead, where should I start? With you trying to kill yourself or your accepting Prin's invitation to recuperate here?" he asked angrily.

"I didn't ask to come here. You guys weren't even supposed to find me," Mark said defensively.

"Well let's thank Princess for that! If she hadn't found you you'd be 6 feet under right now!" Jason spat. He paced the living room, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Why didn't you come to me if things got to be too much for you?" Jason's gray eyes reflected a mixture of betrayal and anger at his best friend. "Was taking a permanent vacation the only way you could deal with the loss of your father?"

"Don't go there alright?" Mark raised his voice threateningly. "You don't even know the half of it!" He raised his hand pointing his index finger in Jason's direction. Another pause ensued.

"What about Princess?" Jason asked knowing she was Mark's Achilles' heel. "Did you give any thought on how your death would affect her?"

Mark's brow furrowed after hearing that. "I've thought about her," he answered in a low tone, "but so have you."

Jason straightened at this. "What the hell does that mean?"

It was Mark's turn to pace, this time circling Jason while he spoke. "Why so evasive Jase? You don't think I haven't seen the way you look at her?" Mark went on nastily speaking over Jason's shoulder. "Maybe my being out of the way would make it easier for you both!" He ended by nudging Jason's shoulder.

Jason knew he was being baited but at this point he couldn't stop the words from coming even if he tried. "You're out of line Mark! Prin and I have always been tight but not in the way you believe!"

They then stood face to face, only a few feet away from each other.

"And just how much tighter would you like for it to be between you?" Mark asked hatefully. The Eagle and the Condor's eyes met and held, a clash between indigo blue and silver gray orbs flashing perilously.

After another long pause, Jason lowered his head and then began to laugh roguishly. It was then he looked up directly into Mark's cold stare. "Well, well, well. The Eagle is finally jealous of me. I must say I'm flattered. Especially since I've been existing in your shadow all of this time."

Mark was stunned. He didn't expect this response and his look of surprise only persuaded Jason to continue. "Surprise Anderson's golden boy? I love you like the brother you've become to me. But you're wrong about Prin and me. I'll be honest with you though. If Princess were to ever come to me and wanted me to be with her, I wouldn't give you a second thought. I would feel sorry for you, but I would have no regrets. Especially since you were the one who sought solace in the bed of some prostitute!"

Jason's words hit Mark with the effectiveness of a Bird Missile. Mark's fists were clinched at his sides, ready to impede the first blow. Mark swung aiming for Jason's jaw, but he deflected the jab catching Mark's fist with his hand. The Condor's gray eyes had become slate, as he held Mark's wrist in a vice-like grip.

"If you hurt Princess in any way or somehow drag her into this dismal abyss you've created for yourself, I'll personally see to it that your ass returns to that hospital bed at Center Neptune," he warned Mark threateningly. He abruptly released Mark, then replaced his sunglasses over his wolf-gray eyes. Feeling Mark's anger searing a hole into his back as he walked away, Jason left the house. Once outside, Jason felt a wave of defeat and sorrow overtake him. Nothing had been accomplished and worse yet, his words may have cost him his best friend not to mention the friendship of the young woman he was also developing strong feelings for.

A few hours had passed and evening was approaching. Even during dinner, Princess couldn't get Mark to tell her what happened between him and Jason. She attempted to reach Jason through use of her wrist communicator but her efforts were useless. Jason wasn't responding.

Princess noticed Mark was rubbing his head during their simple meal of canned soup and sandwiches. She apologized to him and promised she'd make it up to him tomorrow. Mark responded by saying he needed to lie down, a headache was starting to take effect. Not giving Prin a chance to say anything, the young man retreated to his room.

Another hour had passed with the night's arrival and Mark hadn't emerged from the bedroom. Princess had already showered and changed into a form fitting tank top and jersey shorts. She decided to end the silence even if it meant Mark shouting his disapproval of her interference.

She knocked on his bedroom door. "Mark? Mark are you alright?" Prin continued speaking while knocking on the door. "I think we should talk. It's important that you know what's to be expected of you while you're staying with me." Still no answer and the young woman frowned at this.

Princess tried the doorknob. It clicked and she took a deep breath before entering. Once inside the room she noted the window on the opposite side of the dark room was open, allowing the breeze off of the ocean to filter in. The moon's light was dancing off of the pale curtains lifting them silently. Princess turned her head and noticed the bed hadn't been slept in. She started to panic, thinking Mark had left the house. Frantic her green eyes scanned the darkness until they fell upon the trembling figure adjacent to the bed on the side nearest the closet door.

Princess approached slowly extending her hand. "Mark? Mark what's going on?" she asked while getting on bended knee before him. Mark was sitting with his arms enfolding his knees, rocking himself. Princess noted his pupils were dilated in the blue depths of his eyes. Mark's skin was pale and damp, perspiration pouring out from his pores. She touched her cool hands to his forehead and felt the heat emanating from within. Mark flinched.

"Don't…don't…touch me!" he wailed and turned his head away. Princess then placed both hands on either side of his face and discovered Mark's tear stained cheeks. He closed his eyes tightly as muscle spasms began to gnaw at his flesh. Princess' eyes misted at his suffering; she was witnessing Mark in the throes of withdrawal.

_Thanks to all of you for reading and I'd appreciate your reviews. Misty Girl1 a special thanks to you._


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

_This is a rather long chapter dealing with some of Mark's withdrawal symptoms as he and Princess embark on a long night of discovery and awareness of each other. There's some coarse language, a brief mention of sex, and sexual innuendo but nothing out of the realm of good taste. I've also placed a "fluff scene" toward the end of this segment. Thanks to my friends for their support and thanks to all who've read so far. Again the characters don't belong to me!_

Mark leaned into the corner of the nearest wall, relying on the support he knew his body required. In his weakened state, he could barely sit up on his own and he felt as if though he were on the verge of collapsing. His body aching, he motioned for Princess to give him room so he could stretch his long limbs before him.

Tears continued to coarse down Mark's flushed cheeks as he licked his dry, ashen lips to speak. His voice was raspy, as if though he had been swallowing gravel. "He didn't want me you know." It was a statement, not a question and Mark's shoulders shook with despair as he cried, "I …I was never any good…not good enough….that son of a bitch!"

A major spasm invaded Mark's body and he groaned as another painful wave swept through him. His gut was churning inward and he could feel bile rise to the back of his throat. Mark clutched desperately at his stomach hoping to keep the threat of nausea at bay.

Mark's misery was evident even in the darkness of the room and Princess didn't want to exacerbate the situation. Right now she was more concerned with Mark's physical well being. She could tell his body was a furnace simply by looking at him. Princess had maneuvered herself on his exposed side, opposite the wall. She noticed Mark's dark t-shirt was drenched with perspiration. Placing her right hand to Mark's shoulder, Princess raised her left wrist using the communicator to scan Mark's body to assess his vital signs. A tiny hologram appeared, relaying the pertinent information she needed.

**Body temp-105, heart rate-122, respiratory rate-26, blood pressure-170/80.**

Although the G-Force members were capable of withstanding certain elements against their physical well being, due largely in part to their cerebonic enhancements, immediate treatment was needed in this case. Mark was pushing his implant into overload. Princess quickly reached for Mark and looped an arm of his behind her neck while wrapping her arm behind his torso, forcing him off of the floor and onto the nearby bed. Mark landed on his back, writhing after being let go so abruptly.

Princess rushed toward the bathroom and turned on the bathtub's faucet. She placed a hand under the spray of water, gauging its temperature for tepid.

She returned to the bedroom and noticed Mark encasing his head in his hands. "God just make it all stop! I don't want this…I don't want this anymore!" he wailed.

Princess then took a deep breath for she knew what she had to do next. She had to undress Mark and get him into the tub. She sat on the edge of the bed and peered down into Mark's tortured face. His lids were partially closed, revealing a hint of those once incredible blue eyes, now tainted as a result of his abuse. A heavy pelt of hair was plastered to his forehead. He was all but heaving now, swallowing and expelling air forcibly from his lung field. Chills were now inhabiting his muscular body, his frame trembling in response to it.

Princess quickly reached for the hem of Mark's black t-shirt, peeling the now sweat soaked garment up and over his head. Mark was too weak to question her actions and lay upon the bed limp as any rag doll. Grateful that he decided not to fight her, Prin then moved toward the floor to continue with the rest of her task.

While on bended knee, Princess got as far as removing Mark's shoes from his feet when he suddenly summoned up enough strength to rise, leaning on his elbows. His face had turned an ominous shade of green.

"I'm…I'm…I'm gonna be sick!" Mark shouted. He had been successful fighting off the urge to vomit before, but not this time.

"Come on!" Princess shouted back, forcing Mark up from the bed and rushing him towards the bathroom, depositing him at the toilet.

Mark fell to his knees and placing a hand on either side of the toilet's lid, proceeded to vomit violently. Princess had gone toward the tub and turned off the faucet after supplying it with an adequate amount of lukewarm water filling it three quarters. Returning to Mark's side she placed her soft hands on his broad shoulders, leaning over slightly, massaging his taut muscles while he continued to dispose of what contents were left in his stomach.

Afterwards, Mark placed his face on the rim of the toilet's lid, thankful for its cool porcelain exterior. "Leave me…leave me alone!" he choked.

Princess spoke from behind him. "Come on Mark. We need to get you in the water."

"No…I can't…let me stay…too sick," he mumbled, hugging the commode.

Princess responded by placing her hands under his armpits and dragging him to the side of the bathtub. She then got on her knees and reached for the snap of his jeans.

Mark's hands snapped over her wrist. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, now appearing more alert than before.

"If you won't do it, then I will," she admonished him. "You need to get into the tub. Tepid water will aid in lowering your high body temperature since you aren't able to stomach any medicine to do so."

She then removed her wrist from his grasp and fingered the zipper of his jeans pulling it downward. Princess then placed her thumbs underneath Mark's waistband, pulling them past his hips.

"_Ignore the obvious_," Princess thought to herself as she worked his jeans past his thighs, mindful of his sinewy skin. She then commanded louder than necessary, "Lift your hips!"

"Damn it, I can…I hear you!" he mumbled and obliged by doing so.

Princess averted her eyes toward his legs while she worked his jeans off. She was then reminded of the reason Mark was with her at all. The sensor on his ankle was casting its reflection from the bathroom's light, almost blinding her.

Princess then assisted Mark into the lukewarm water, her eyes focused on his face while urging him down to sit. Once in the tub, Mark leaned back but had to bend his knees since he was much taller and larger than what the tub normally accommodated. She was kneeling next to the tub and, with washcloth in hand, began to sponge Mark's face. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, beginning to relax slightly under Princess' ministrations.

For the next few minutes, no words were exchanged between them. Princess continued to sponge Mark's forehead, his neck, and torso. Her own forehead was damp and a lock of dark hair was pasted above her brow. Just when she was about to wipe the annoying strand of hair aside, Mark reached up and did the deed for her. Her emerald green eyes returned to Mark's handsome face. His brows were stitched together and he was studying her with deep set blue eyes.

He found his voice though it was still hoarse as a result of the night's events so far.

"I didn't want you to get involved," Mark croaked. His hand burned after touching her and he extinguished the flame, returning it to his bathwater.

"I don't turn my back on my friends," Princess answered quietly. "I remember a time when you would've done the same."

Before Mark could retort, he grimaced as another bout of muscle spasms invaded his body. His eyelids shut tightly and his teeth clenched fiercely, as if though they were capable of grinding bones. Seeing his suffering, Princess immediately took his exposed hand, and braided her fingers through his. Mark clutched at Prin's hand as if though she were a single life preserver. When the spasm ended, he breathed an immense sigh of relief.

It was then Princess summoned the courage to ask, "How long have you been using Mark?"

Mark released her hand after this query. A few moments passed and at first Prin didn't believe he would answer her. His eyes were still firmly closed and he submerged his body even further into the water's depths.

"I'm not an addict," he spoke defensively, but in a low tone, never opening his eyes.

"Mark whatever that Spectran gave you managed to bypass your cerebonic implant. It's possible that you could have become dependent…"

Surprising the flustered young woman with his reflexes, Mark quickly grabbed Prin's wrist pulling her closer as he gave her a frosty blue glare.

He thundered angrily, "I'm not an addict!"

Mark was suddenly rewarded with a scathing throb at his temples and he instantly released his momentary captive. He grimaced again while the pain he had believed was diminishing in severity resurfaced.

The tub's water was turning cold as was the atmosphere between the two of them in the bathroom. Princess, still rooted to her spot near the tub, scanned Mark's features again with her communicator. The tiny hologram divulged its findings: **Body temp-102, heart** **rate-110, respirations-22, blood pressure-160/80.**

She then stood and reaching for a nearby towel commanded sharply, "Stand up!"

She spread the towel open and concentrated on the tiny designs imprinted on the bathroom's wallpaper. Princess suppressed the hurt she felt behind her jade green eyes at their recent exchange and decided, for now, to distance herself emotionally. She would be Mark's nursemaid, nothing more.

Mark grasped the base of the mounted soap dish on his right and the rim of the tub on his left. He managed to get one leg out of the tub but lost his footing. He almost slipped had it not been for Princess' quick reaction. She caught him at the waist wrapping her arms around his torso. Her hands were clutching the towel she managed to drape around his hips. Their faces were mere inches from each other and Princess could feel tremors coursing through him, his fingers digging deep into her shoulder blades.

"Mark are you…," she began.

"I'm fine!" he snapped. Mark pushed himself away from her and lowered his head, tucking in the folds of the towel around his waist. He seemed to be fumbling with what should have been a simple task and he continued to keep his eyes downcast, focusing on getting the job done.

Princess reached out to him. "Mark just let me..."

"Princess please!" Mark shouted backing away slightly. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, his focus still downcast.

"This is just too much…too much for me!" Mark then lifted his head and Princess glimpsed at his tortured soul. "My God, you just bathed me like I was some 90 year old invalid! I feel like shit right now! You shouldn't…you shouldn't be doing this!"

He then turned away from Princess, managing to make it to the bathroom's sink. He placed his hands on each side of the sink and took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain some composure.

Princess felt awful. Her purpose was to help, not embarrass him. She wanted to say so, but felt that would only make things worse. Regretfully, Princess turned on her bare feet and headed towards the bathroom's door.

"There's an extra toothbrush in the cabinet," she voiced over her shoulder. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Princess then closed the door behind her.

Mark watched Princess exit the bathroom and cursed at himself. "_Damn it, it wasn't supposed to be this way! I shouldn't even be here! Why did she have to save me?"_

Mark caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and grimaced. His coffee brown hair was a few inches longer and it was in utter disarray. His coloring was dull and deficient, his blue eyes were lacking in their intensity, their depths were sunken. His cheekbones were slightly prominent; he'd lost a few pounds. In short, Mark was a shadow of his former self. He rubbed his cheek when he noticed the formation of stubble sprouting along his jaw line. _"Funny. I didn't begin to grow facial hair until my father died…"_

He stopped short, refusing to complete the thought. He reached for the spare toothbrush inside the cabinet. He turned on the sink's faucet…

After spending a few minutes brushing his teeth and gargling, Mark then cupped his hands under the faucet, allowing the cool water to pool inside his palms. He splashed the water on his weathered skin when suddenly a familiar authoritative voice spoke.

"**_You are so pathetic!"_**

Astonished, Mark looked up and saw his father's face staring back at him from the bathroom mirror. Mark looked frantically over each shoulder before returning to Ken Beckham's foreboding image. No longer was he in the red Rigan uniform Mark had been used to seeing him in, but he was the way Mark remembered him as a child. The senior Beckham was big, broad shouldered, and commanding attention with piercing brown eyes and a thin mustache sitting above his top lip. Mark's heart skipped a beat as he continued to stare at the man who abandoned him twice in his lifetime.

It was then Mark returned his father's scowl with one of his own.

"_You maniacal son of a bitch! How dare you come back from the grave after the way you treated me! Don't you dare call me pathetic! What right…"_

"**_I have every right_!" **Ken roared back at his son._ **"Look at what you're doing to yourself! If anything I hate worse than an idiot its an idiot with a purpose! Deliberately binge drinking, doing drugs, screwing around, and then finally a futile attempt at killing yourself! And with the assistance of a Spectran whore! What the fuck is your problem?"**_

"_What's my problem?"_ Mark asked incredulously. _"My problem is you! It's always been you! You were always near, always so close to me, and never once did you make an attempt to acknowledge your true presence to me! Yet you pushed me to do better every chance you got! And when I faltered you sure as hell never let me forget it! Everything you ever told me was a lie! A damned lie!" _He placed his hands on either side of the mirror now, wishing he could pull his father out of it just so he could kick his ass.

"**_I was a soldier! My first priority was to the cause! Maria couldn't possibly understand the threat placed on my life and hers! When she gave birth to Matt and you, I swore that since I had done such a disservice to her by marrying her, I would at least see to it that you all were safe!"_**

"_After mom and Matt died being my father should've been your first priority! The war with Spectra was just an excuse! You allowed it to change you!"_

"_**You ungrateful bastard! Look at how it's changed you! Look at what you've become! You're a shell of the young man I knew! I told you never to allow your emotions to come into it! You're weak, you're a poor excuse…"**_

"Shut up!" Mark yelled as he rammed his right fist into the bathroom's mirror, silencing his father's menacing taunts.

The bathroom's door burst open and Princess was shocked to discover Mark's right arm extended into what was left of the mirror over the small sink. Blood was trickling from his hand and glass was shattered in varying directions surrounding his feet.

Mark's body was still quaking when Princess approached him and placed a hand to his right forearm.

"Did you see him?" he asked hoarsely. "He was right here."

Princess looked about the bathroom. "What are you talking about? Mark, who did you see?" she asked quietly.

"My father," he answered turning his anguished face to Prin's worried one. "He was right here," Mark repeated. "I saw him."

Princess had grabbed a towel and urged Mark to place his right hand into it while she inspected the damage. Fortunately it was only a minor laceration, given what could've been a trip to the hospital for stitches. Dreading what to say next, Princess then looked into Mark's bewildered face.

"Mark, there's no one here." She licked her lips before continuing. "No one except you and me."

She then wrapped Mark's injured hand in the towel and coaxed him out of the circle of glass surrounding them. Still holding Princess' hand, Mark followed her into the kitchen without protest, his thoughts centering on the recent occurrence.

Princess urged him into a chair at the kitchen's table, leaving him momentarily. She returned to sit opposite him, placing a small bowl, a bottle of antiseptic, and a first aid kit on the table.

"Place your hand over the bowl," she instructed while twisting the cap off of the antiseptic's bottle; Mark did as he was told. He was simply numb.

The cut bore into Mark's knuckle. It wasn't deep but did appear red and angry, like he was before. Princess proceeded to pour the bottle's contents over the wound. Surprisingly he sat across from her in silence while she tended to his injury. His mind was coming to the realization that he had been hallucinating.

A few minutes had passed before he spoke, his mind finally coming out of its recent fog.

"You think I've finally cracked haven't you? That I've lost my mind don't you?" Mark asked, his eyes fixated on the task she was performing.

Several seconds went by before Princess spoke. "Do you really want to know what I think?" Her focus was on the first aid she was administering.

Mark wasted no time in responding. "Yeah, I really want to know." He lifted his face to look directly at her.

Princess was holding his right hand now and dabbing an antibiotic ointment to his lacerated knuckle with a Q-tip. She then took a deep breath and looked at Mark with knowing green eyes.

"I think you're hurting very much. Discovering Cronus was your father the way you did, had to come as quite a shock. Particularly since Chief Anderson and your father went out of their way to make certain you wouldn't find out. I think you feel betrayed and you're acting out as a result of your rage. But I also feel as if though you're running from something; I'm just not certain what it is."

"You sound like one of those talk show psychologists," Mark answered but he didn't elaborate. She was almost on target with her assessment of his situation. "How did you find me?"

Princess was placing non-adhesive gauze to his knuckle and began wrapping his hand with a small ace bandage.

"It wasn't easy, but you did leave a trail, at least in my eyes. I was concerned about your mental state and what you might do. Finding you in Sector 9 was unexpected. Finding you with a prostitute…" Princess tried to appear indifferent though deep down she was very hurt by Mark's indiscretion.

Mark noticed Princess' nonchalance, and for some reason this bothered him. Still he felt as if he owed her an explanation.

"It wasn't planned Prin. I just needed a release. She was supposed to …after we…she gave me…it didn't even mean anything. I wasn't supposed to be around afterwards anyway." He sounded lame even to himself.

Princess had heard enough and her eyes flashed a brilliant burst of green. "Sex without love isn't impressive. It's bound to be unfulfilling and hollow if you're only there to perform the mechanics."

Mark had expected to embarrass her, not to hear a response from her. His blue eyes darkened.

"How would you know?" he asked, his voice deepening. Mark's demeanor had changed from bewildered young man to man on the hunt, his presence totally male.

Princess had just finished bandaging Mark's hand but she still held it within her palm. A current of electricity was being exchanged between them. She'd crossed the line and needed to end this. She was provoking a conversation she wasn't ready for; and with Mark clad only in a towel. Apart from the weight loss and disheveled appearance, he was still Mark; devastatingly handsome. Suddenly Princess was acutely aware of what she was wearing; the thin tank top and jersey shorts weren't exactly covering her very well either. The outfit only accentuated her curves and showed off her long legs.

"I've been told," she answered after noticing Mark's burning attentiveness towards her.

Princess stood up from the table and Mark eyed Princess appreciatively. Sometimes being around her made it hard for him to think.

He then winced as he remembered the callous words of his father: **_"Don't ever get too_ _attached. Caring for someone only_**_ **weakens you. You're a soldier!"**_

He then turned his attention to his bandaged hand, flexing his fingers at her handiwork. Princess had started to walk away to return the first aid kit to the kitchen's medicine cabinet when Mark reached out for her wrist. He looked up at her, his blue eyes reflecting a certain depth of sincerity.

"Thank you," Mark mouthed.

His shift of mood amazed her, but this person was the Mark she remembered. Princess wanted to embrace the moment for she didn't know how long it would last.

"You're welcome," she answered softly. "Do you feel strong enough to return to bed on your own? I can offer you some hot tea and crackers to help settle your stomach."

Mark stood to test his balance. "I can manage."

He turned to see Princess watching him worriedly. For a few minutes, they just stood staring at each other. Mark wanted to speak, but he knew Princess was expecting more from him, and right now he couldn't promise her anything. He headed toward his bedroom.

Princess walked in moments later with a small tray and found Mark lying supine underneath the sheets. He appeared to be asleep; his eyes were closed, his breathing even. She placed the tray aside to silently scan his body with her communicator.

**Body temp-100, heart rate-86, respiration rate-20, blood pressure-136/86.**

"_Much better,"_ she thought. Princess continued to stand near the bed and cast another worried glance over this troubled young man, her mind going over what happened in the past several hours. Whatever the Spectran had given Mark managed to infiltrate his implant's defense mechanism. No common street drug could do that. Mark, even in his depressed state, couldn't get high enough off of them to experience the affects. This derivative was different and Princess couldn't help wondering if the drug were specifically designed with G-Force in mind. She prayed that Mark would be able to overcome the drug's physical and psychological hold.

Mark shifted slightly in bed, his body outlined against the sheet, arching his back in a fluid-like motion as if though he were about to take flight. Princess' eyes devoured his sleeping figure.

"_You seem so at peace now. I wish with all of my heart that you find the peace you're so desperately seeking. I just pray that it won't happen through self destruction."_

Mark's head then turned in Princess' direction as if though he heard her and rewarded her by moaning _"Princess," _his full lips curving into a sensual smile. Princess flushed at this, somewhat embarrassed, but delightfully thrilled that she was a participant in Mark's dream.

Princess slowly descended to the side of the bed Mark left unoccupied, not that there was much. He'd taken up the majority of space in the double bed and this knowledge was something Princess wanted to keep for herself. Her back slid from the bed's headboard and she maneuvered herself into the crook of his right arm, placing her dark head on Mark's well defined chest. Princess remained outside of the sheet, believing she'd only be in this position for a moment. Her arm curled around Mark's torso, her elbow resting on his abdomen. Princess savored this nearness with him, for tomorrow his anger might return, and she hugged him fiercely to her. She stifled a yawn.

"_Just a few more minutes,"_ she promised herself sleepily. Princess' eyes were heavy with the promise of sleep and finally, exhausted after tonight's long ordeal, succumbed to it.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

The rays from the midmorning sun filtered into the bedroom, its warmth dancing off of the young couple who were oblivious of its arrival. Princess snuggled deeper into the groove of Mark's body, one shapely leg thrown over an unsuspecting thigh. Mark had thrown his arm around her during the night, his bandaged hand resting on her shoulder. His chin had been resting on top of Princess' head, taking in the sweet scent of her hair. _"Strawberries,"_ Mark murmured and shifted closer to its source, his body was on the verge of wakefulness.

He opened his eyes slowly, and discovered the woman who had captivated his dreams many a lonesome night. Princess was in 'his' arms, or rather, 'he' was in 'hers.' Mark drank in the sight of her, wanting to imprint her lovely features at this moment, into that corner of his mind that would always be with him, no matter what.

It was at this time that Princess began to awaken. She was purring with the satisfaction of a kitten after having had a restful sleep. She lifted her head slightly, her lips coming into contact with Mark's throat and he groaned in response to her touch. Princess' long lashes fluttered open, providing Mark with the spectacular view of her large, luminous green eyes. He raised his left hand to her cheek, caressing her smooth and flawless skin.

Mark allowed his thumb to graze Princess' bottom lip and he watched in fascination when she parted her lips as a result of his tender assault. That delicious ache began to flood both of them; and one of them had to stop. Princess, reluctantly, started to pull away.

"Uh, uh," Mark whispered, shifting his weight to lie on his back, pulling Princess to lie on top of him. His hands had moved from Princess' shoulders to her throat, leaving a trail of heat, placing her body on high alert.

His blue eyes blackened before saying hungrily, "I've been waiting five years to do this."

Mark's mouth parted Princess' lips, his tongue performing a sensual probing of the sweetness he always knew existed. His hands sifted through her jet tresses, his fingers drifting toward the nape of her neck, coaxing her body even more towards his. For the first time, Mark was allowing this beautiful young woman to feel the secrets his body had been withholding from hers for what seemed like an eternity. Moaning softly, Princess answered in kind, her soft lips flowering under Mark's insistent mouth, her tongue dueling erotically with his. Her arms curled around his neck, pressing her pliant body against his muscular frame. Mark's hands migrated slowly down her back and cupped her hips into his. The only barriers were the sheet and Princess' clothes, and Mark's hands were eagerly working at casting them aside. He didn't want to be denied any longer, and Princess' responsiveness seemed only to confirm his decision. When her hand traveled to that distinctive part of Mark's anatomy that made him male, he sucked in his breath sharply. The knowledge that Princess wanted him just as much thrilled him beyond conscious thought.

Their passionate interlude was interrupted by the familiar and persistent beep of the Swan's communicator.

"_Ignore it! Please Prin, baby, just this once ignore it!" _Mark's mind screamed.

His lips had just discovered that certain spot behind Princess' left ear that was driving her wild, her hands clutching at the sheet which was draped just below that chiseled six pack of his. But the constant beeping of Princess' communicator had the same effect as being doused with ice water. Frantically, Princess tore herself from Mark's arms and scrambled from the bed. Mark's body had been hot with anticipation, cooling off was going to take a while, give or take a few hours.

Princess raked nervous hands through her tangled hair and reassembled her clothes. Her tank top had been worked upwards to expose her bare midriff and her shorts were barely sitting on her hips. Still trembling, she managed to raise her left wrist to speak through kiss swollen lips into her communicator.

"G-3 here!" Princess responded breathlessly.

Mark turned away, not wanting to see or hear her switch from the woman he had begun making love to, to G-Force officer.

"Princess, I was worried," came the voice from the other end; it was her father, Chief Anderson. "Is everything alright? Did anything happen with Mark that we need to be aware of?" Her surrogate father was genuinely concerned.

Princess observed Mark, now sitting on the edge of the bed with his back toward her. She began to chew her bottom lip and winced, her lips were still sore reminding her of what had just taken place between them. His bare back was rigid, and she could sense the anger simmering within him.

Leaning with his elbows on his knees, Mark could just imagine what type of trouble Chief Anderson and Dr. Baxter believed he might have been capable of during the night. Mark then sobered, for he didn't remember much of the evening after eating dinner and before entering that tepid bath. He remembered Princess being with him through it all. Mark lowered his gaze to the sensor on his left ankle, the device reminding him of his lost independence, the ability to make his own choices. In that moment, he hated Anderson and Baxter for what they had done to him. And now Princess was obligated to tell them everything that happened, it was her duty. She was a soldier; Mark's face contorted with this knowledge.

"Last night…last night was uneventful Chief. Nothing happened. Nothing at all" Princess lied.

Mark's back straightened and he turned to look directly at Princess. Princess had responded with closed eyes not wanting Mark to see what lying to her father had cost her.

"Really?" Chief Anderson questioned skeptically. There was a brief pause before he asked another question. "Princess, is Mark there with you?"

"No sir. As a matter of fact, Mark's still asleep. I imagine he's still quite tired given all that he's been through." Princess' voice projected a calm sincerity.

Chief Anderson was pleased with her answer. "Well…you're probably right. Dr. Baxter thinks we should give Mark another day before meeting with the recommended psychologist. Have him here first thing in the morning."

The communicator gave the sign-off signal. Princess dropped her left wrist to her side.

"Princess, you didn't have to…," Mark started but Princess intervened.

"Please don't…don't…OK? I just felt that you needed more time. If they discovered what happened last night, they'd make a guinea pig out of you at Center Neptune. I just couldn't allow that to happen."

Princess walked towards the bedroom door to leave but stopped short. "Mark just promise me that you will at least try. That you will come to me if a craving for that stuff the Spectrans gave you should occur. Otherwise I can't help you."

Mark lowered his head at this. He knew he shouldn't be promising her anything, but after what she just did, he would make an honest effort.

"I'll do what I can," he said quietly and then turned away from her once more.

Princess accepted this. She took a deep breath before she continued.

"What happened between us this morning…I promise you it won't happen again. Too much is at stake. And quite frankly, I deserve something more than a casual roll in the sack."

She then left the room.

"_Is that what she thought that was?"_ Mark asked himself. _"Just a casual roll in the sack?"_

Princess was the one who told him that sex without love was unfulfilling and hollow. She had proved that to him this morning. There was nothing unimpressive about it. He could never forget what happened between them; their relationship didn't border on casual.

Now he had the monumental task of deciding whether or not life could be worth living again. His father's life and death had caused him so much grief. Ken Beckham's betrayal still stung but not as much as the secret Mark had been concealing for the past several years. A factor that may have played a role in his father's decision to board that rocket ship and sacrifice himself for planet Earth. A secret that Mark had buried long ago, and now, with the threat of exposure, was eating away at his existence.

_Author's note: I remember an episode in which Mark briefly mentioned he had a brother. He was kneeling at a tombstone with the marking of an airplane on it. I don't recall Mark's brother ever being mentioned again in the series, but decided to create one for the story's purpose. A special thanks goes out to my "heavenly friend" who beta-read this chapter for me. I owe you one!_


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_The story continues as the remaining G-Force members continue to function without their commander, forcing a reluctant Jason to take Mark's place while he's still in the recovery phase. It's rather lengthy, but serves its purpose. A special thanks to my beta-readers GoldAngel2 and Whiteswan; I'll never be able to thank them enough! Also my undying gratitude to MistyGirl1 and Jen23 who supported me from the beginning. As everyone knows, the characters don't belong to me!_

_Focus! Focus, damn it!_ Jason's mind ordered while he sat at his desk in an attempt to work on past due mission reports overlooked by G-Force's commanding officer, Mark Beckham, who was now on medical leave until further notice. Chief Anderson had informed Jason that he was now "acting commanding officer" for the time being, and though technically as second in command he knew this to be the case, it felt entirely different to be reminded of it. And Jason _didn't want_ to be reminded of it. Particularly now while he was covering for Mark's negligence regarding his responsibilities. The Condor hated reading about G-Force's failed attempts at thwarting Spectra's invasions of Earth, described in vivid and graphic detail, these past few months in the mission reports. The invasions had come at a time when Mark had been going through his own private hell after discovering Colonel Cronus (Ken Beckham) was his father. Mark was still dealing with the ramifications of the IFPP's covert operation involving his father but the team had suffered from the consequences as well. Mark's absence was more than noticeable and felt by every member of the G-Force project. With each passing hour the paperwork on Jason's desk had multiplied, Keye and Tiny were busy seeking the whereabouts of the prostitute Mark had been with, and Princess was taking care of their _commander on hiatus_ at her place, hoping to aid in his rehabilitation.

But this wasn't the only thing eating at Jason and he knew it. Angrily, he threw his ink pen on the surface of his desk, causing the writing utensil to split at its center. Jason elbowed his desk and placed a hand to his throbbing temple upon realizing the real reason he couldn't concentrate on the pile of paperwork before him. Princess had signaled him via his communicator several times the previous evening and he never responded. Jason had never done that before, choosing to deliberately ignore her signal, and now he was consumed with monumental guilt. He had promised Princess before taking both her and Mark back to the beach house that should she need him, he'd be there for her. And he had gone back on his word, choosing instead to drown his promises in several bottles of beer at Tiny's place last night. His headache a silent but pulsating reminder of the night before.

Adding to the consumption of guilt was the harsh exchange of words between him and Mark regarding Princess Anderson. Jason had readily admitted after being provoked by Mark that he felt something for her; acknowledging that should Princess return his feelings he would gladly reciprocate. Jason groaned inwardly _Shit! I can't believe I said that! What the fuck was I thinking? Why not just tie the noose around Mark's neck? Hell, better yet, my own! _Jason questioned whether Mark had gone to Princess with this and if so, he sure as hell couldn't face her now. Though common sense should tell him this might be the last thing on Mark's mind right now, Jason knew that his friend held a deep rooted sense of insecurity, especially where Princess was involved. He had added insult to injury by admitting his feelings, and the proof existed on the stricken look Mark had given him after he had all but announced _Hey! I've got the hots for your girlfriend!_

Jason was still absorbed in thought when he received a buzz at his office door alerting him that someone wanted entrance. "Go to hell Tiny!" he stated loudly at the intercom, activated by the figure's presence at the door, while he searched his top desk drawer for an aspirin bottle.

"No dice Jase, besides we need to talk," came the simple reply from Jack "Tiny" Harper. Tiny was known as G-5, the Owl. He was also the pilot of G-Force's warship, the Phoenix. Jack was the eldest of the group of young people and at the ripe _old_ age of 24, felt compelled to share his southern wisdom, albeit unsolicited a great deal of the time, with the other members of G-Force even if it meant he had to cram it down their throats.

He preferred to be called Tiny, although his stature reflected an entirely different make-up. Tiny stood 6 ft. 3, a few inches taller than either Mark or Jason, and was a mass of muscle from top to bottom. He was never one to receive credit for his intellect because his appearance masked that possible notion. Yet Tiny could demand attention when he felt like it, and this time he did.

The door to Jason's office slid open as the big guy sauntered inside, finding Jason in the midst of swallowing two aspirin with his standard cup of coffee as the chaser.

Tiny sat down in the chair nearest Jason's desk and gave him the once over. "At this rate, you'll have an ulcer before you reach 25," Tiny claimed.

Jason retorted, "Must be the company I keep! What the hell do you want Tiny? Can't you see I'm busy?" He discarded the empty aspirin bottle into the small wastebasket near his desk and indicated with his hands the small mountain of paperwork before him.

Tiny frowned but decided to press on. "I couldn't help but notice that Prin signaled you last night while we were back at my boathouse. You didn't answer then. Did you ever follow up?"

Jason pretended to study one of the mission reports and his wolf gray eyes briefly peered over the top of the file. "I'm not at Prin's beck and call. Besides she called me and not you, so what of it?"

Tiny's eyes became piercing and he gave Jason a thunderous look. "I care about what happens to her too Jason. Prin is like a little sister to me and she might have called because she needed help with Mark."

"Anderson briefed me this morning and said everything was fine according to Prin's report," Jason stated in a dangerously clipped voice though he never looked up from the file before him.

Tiny then placed a large hand over the report in Jason's hand and slammed it into the desk. "Do you honestly think that if something had happened, Princess would report it to her father? Even you're not that stupid Jason. But something happened because she wanted to talk specifically with you; she didn't bother to signal either Keye or me. So what's the deal?"

"Doesn't concern you Tiny so mind your business!" Jason's expression was livid.

"The team is my business! Did something happen between you and Mark last night before you came to my place?"

Jason opened his mouth to speak but Tiny intervened and stood over the desk, flexing his shoulder muscles when he spoke, maintaining his hand on the report in Jason's grasp. "Need I remind you, you're not the only one who can kick a little ass in this room." Jason then clamped his mouth shut; fuming that Tiny wouldn't let up on this conversation, and finally decided to come clean.

Jason sighed heavily and shook his head in indignation. "Let's just say Mark and I had a few words after I dropped him and Prin off yesterday alright? I said some things I probably shouldn't have said and now I regret them; end of story." He then snatched the papers from underneath the larger man's hand.

Tiny then slowly returned to his seat with a questioning look on his face. "What did you say Jason?"

Jason again pretended to maintain his focus on the report in his hand. Silence permeated the space between them and after several minutes, under Tiny's scrutiny, Jason had begun to squirm in his seat. Tiny eyed him knowingly and his dark brows rose after he had come to the only conclusion.

"Damn it! Is this about Princess?"

Jason shifted in his chair.

"Come on Jase! You know how Mark feels about her! Did you say anything stupid?"

"Why does everyone automatically assume that Mark is right for Prin? Have you forgotten how much he's fucked up these past several months? Things between them could be different now!" Jason clutched at the papers in his hands.

"Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?" Tiny then re-evaluated the situation and took a deep breath. "Jason," he began quietly, in hopes of making his friend understand, "I know that you haven't really been seeing anyone seriously since Luci …well, since Luci was killed but if I really thought you had a chance with Prin, I'd say go for it. Hell a few years ago, you two might have had a shot together. She literally followed you around like a stray puppy. But Jase, things have changed and you've both grown up. I think you're confusing being alone with being lonely and in the process you're seeing Prin in a different sort of way, well…because she's convenient." Tiny leaned a bit in the chair he occupied and placed his elbows on his knees. "You've both been kind of leaning on each other lately. Since Mark's been out of the picture, she turned to you. You turned to her after Luci was killed, a few months before Mark's father died."

Just the mention of Luci Clark, the first woman Jason had ever loved, reignited an old ache in him that he had believed was gone. Luci was a race driver and an ambitious one at that. Rather than wait for the rewards her talent as a driver would bring later, Luci literally sold her soul to the devil. She had sworn her allegiance to Spectra and in the end it had cost her own life. Jason got up and walked towards his office's corner window, arms folded, surprisingly allowing Tiny's words to sink in. "And what about Mark? You don't think of Prin as a convenience to him?" Jason asked quietly, his back facing Tiny's now mellowed expression.

Tiny thought a moment before responding, "Mark never really allowed himself to get close to her even while they grew up in the same house. I honestly believe part of his problems stem from this, emotionally he's repressed. It was bound to catch up with him sooner or later. Mark has lost his mom, his brother, and his father twice. He can no longer distance himself like he once did. He needs someone like Prin to balance things out, make him feel as if though his life has purpose once more, you know? Mark listens to her and values her opinion of him, despite the way he's messed up lately. And Prin truly cares for him more than she lets on. I've seen the way they look at each other when they think no one else is watching; man you could light a city with their electricity alone."

Jason continued to stare out at the view provided of Bay City from his office, the mid-afternoon rays from the sun leaping off of the windows from the other skyscrapers, while he contemplated what Tiny had just told him. He knew Tiny was only being Tiny, honest as the day he was born.

Jason turned and acknowledged Tiny's words of wisdom. Maybe there was a reason he was chosen as the owl after all. "Thanks Tiny," Jason mouthed with all sincerity. "Sorry about my attitude earlier. It's been a crappy day." At least his headache had lessened in severity, for which he was truly grateful.

Tiny offered his friend a small smile. "Well that's what happens when you throw a woman in the mix. Everything comes out chaotic. And it hasn't helped that Prin is no longer the skinny, mop headed, stick figure we grew up with. Suffice it to say, the girl has grown up and no man can deny she has a lot of …feminine charm," Tiny coughed on the last words spoken. Jason laughed at Tiny's choice of expression.

Their amusement was interrupted by the familiar chime on both of their communicators.

"G-2 and G-5 responding. Go ahead G-4." Jason answered seriously.

"Just got some news about the prostitute Mark was with when he was found. Her name was Valeria Odomodu, age 30, galaxy security list her as Rigan." Keye responded brusquely.

"Is that it?" Tiny asked in an irritated manner. "You've been in there all morning…"

"You know you're supposed to be down here in the computer lab helping me to find this info. And 'No' that's not all. It seems Valeria was a graduate from the ISO academy and her major was chemistry. She was an employee at ISO, a chemist. Seems she was fired after being there for only three years but that information is classified. I'm trying to hack into ISO's database now to find out more."

"In the end she sold out to Spectra. So where is Valeria now?" Jason asked.

"Our local law enforcement sources say they came upon a homicide scene in which Valeria matches the description. Described the body as having more holes than Swiss cheese. How much do you wanna bet that purple people eater, Zoltar, and his cronies got to her as soon as they found out Valeria didn't kill her intended victim?" Keye responded.

Jason's brow furrowed at this as he shook his head, "Somehow Zoltar must've figured out Mark's true identity after he returned from planet Riga. Either that or he's putting all of the pieces together. Our boy, Mark, is in more trouble than he realizes."

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Mark and Princess spent the majority of the late afternoon at the beach house in silence. Given what had occurred between them earlier, Princess did her best to avoid any contact with her temporary room mate for the time being and chose to remain outside while Mark was cleaning the bathroom after last night's events. She couldn't deny the physical attraction between them; that had been ongoing for the past few years. Yet, they had _never _acted on it until earlier after this afternoon. Princess' face burned at the memory while she sat on the steps of the deck looking out over the beach's shoreline. The young woman breathed deeply and expelled a lengthy and heavy sigh. If the communicator hadn't gone off when it did…

Mark had just tossed out the last remnants of broken glass from the bathroom's mirror he destroyed after hallucinating his father's presence before him. _Well Beckham, what else do you have in store? What else can you mess up today? _He was mindful of his bandaged right hand and winced at its soreness. Mark sighed heavily as he closed his eyes and pushed his fingers through his mahogany mane, allowing his mind to drift back to what had taken place between him and Prin previously. It had felt _so good_ to finally let his guard down and to be with her the way he always wanted. He was invariably tired of the platonic relationship being forced upon them by Chief Anderson and Colonel Cronus. Mark frowned. _Not Cronus remember? Ken Beckham, your mother's sperm donor! Your father!_ His own mind was taunting him.

Suddenly Mark felt an overwhelming need to get out of the house; the thought of confinement was causing a sense of urgency, beckoning him to leave before he could feel the walls closing in on him. He had just put on a t-shirt with a pair of worn denim shorts and felt comfortable enough and well enough to go for a walk. Mark then looked down and eyed the sensor on his left ankle, snorting at the device. _It's as if though I'm IFPP property!_ He needed to get out now!

Mark made it toward the patio door and discovered Princess sitting on the steps of the deck. Sliding the door aside, he cleared his throat a bit to announce his presence. Princess then turned slightly to peer over her shoulder, while Mark closed the sliding door back to its original position. Just the smell of the ocean's air rejuvenated his senses.

"I'm going for a walk," Mark stated. "Do I need your permission?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Princess noted Mark was placing his barrier up once again. Her sea green eyes flashed momentarily before answering, "Time out is allowed for _good_ behavior." Tossing her coal colored hair over her shoulders, wondering if Mark noticed the word she enunciated, Princess returned her attention to the ocean.

"Depends on what you mean by _good_ behavior. Was I any _'good'_ after you woke up next to me earlier this afternoon?" Mark goaded; his voice rippling with dangerous under currents. _Princess I'm way ahead of you!_

Princess stood up quickly and began to head down the steps. "You're deliberately trying to shake me Mark. But it's not going to work. You need to go for a walk? Then I'll join you." She proceeded to walk ahead first.

Mark had caught up with Princess in a few quick strides. They walked in silence for several minutes, side by side, with Princess all but marching in a straight line, her movements purposeful, almost military-like. It wasn't a struggle to keep up with her, just annoying.

Tired of the drama, Mark spoke first. "Damn it Prin! We're not in boot camp! I didn't ask you to come with me!" He placed a hand on her elbow to stop her from going further.

Princess' nerves had been tightly wound until she finally snapped. "I'm so damn angry at you!" she yelled and pushed against Mark's chest with her hands. "So disappointed! Do you realize what you've put us through? What you've put all of us through?" The wind on the beach had picked up and lifted several dark strands of hair across Princess' face, hiding the threat of hurtful tears she didn't want Mark to see.

"It was no one else's business! Why can't everyone let me live my life the way I choose?" Mark yelled back.

"Because you're not choosing _life_ you idiot! You're choosing _death_! You know the implants we have were designed to make suicide an impossible choice! Self sacrifice for the good of mankind is one thing, but you couldn't even bring yourself to commit an act of suicide! That's why you reached out to Valeria, you knew she'd do it! You deliberately placed yourself in the hands of a Spectran agent!" Princess stated accusingly. "Did your father's death warrant that Mark? Despite discovering his secret was it necessary to do away with your own life?"

Mark turned away from Princess and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You wouldn't understand. There's more to it than that," he answered quietly. "I'm tired of the IFPP and Anderson interfering in my life. They took my father from me. I'll never be able to forgive them for that." His stance was rigid, and he dropped his head, closing his eyes at the pain that again had resurfaced.

"But torturing yourself this way, trying to end your life isn't the answer Mark. You have to come to terms with it." Princess' eyes averted to Mark's left ankle, and with a nod she implicated the sensor in which his lower extremity was encased. "It doesn't matter whether you're wearing that device or not; you'll never be free until you accept what's happened. Only then can you move on and live the life you want. G-Force's purpose is to fight for the type of freedom you're seeking. There's no freedom in ending your life, even if you pay someone to do it for you," she ended somberly.

Mark stood motionless for several minutes with his back against Princess, not wanting her to see the turmoil her words were causing him. "The fight isn't worth it, if you have no control over the outcome," he retorted.

Princess reached out to lay her hands on his shoulders. "No one has control over the outcome. But if there's a chance that things may turn out alright, that success is the end result, then don't you want to be around to see that?" Princess urged Mark to turn and face her. "Have you ever considered what your future may be like?"

Mark saw such optimism in Princess' beautifully determined face; briefly he allowed himself to be consumed by the depths of her large green eyes. He reached up and lightly skimmed his knuckle over Princess' soft cheek; he then pulled her towards him.

"Prin I…," Mark had started but then he flinched. Mistrust and resentment had begun to blind him once more and he pushed Princess away from him, his face contorted with suspicion. "Anderson told you to say these things to me. He'd do anything to keep me quiet or from causing anymore disruption to G-Force."

Princess couldn't believe her own ears. A painful expression now shadowed her face, as the implication of Mark's words hit home. He didn't trust her.

"Doesn't anything that I've done prove that isn't the case? I lied to my father today to protect you," Princess implored.

Mark merely ignored the statement; his voice venomous. "Why did you get into bed with me?"

Princess' face blanched. Mark was playing with forbidden fruit and he was dangling the apple right in front of her. His eyes were now slits, his expression twisted.

"Not for the reasons you think! I was worried about you, I…I sat next to you on the bed and I fell asleep after an exhausting night! You're reading far too much into it! I would never put myself in the position to keep you here just by sleeping with you!" Princess couldn't believe she was justifying her actions to him.

"The organization can't afford a liability and that's exactly what I am!" Mark shouted back, beating his fist into his chest. "And what better way to shut me up and keep me satisfied at the same time than to have the young and tender Swan to keep watch over me!"

He stepped forward and was dangerously close, within inches of Princess' face, and slid his hand underneath the mass of hair falling below her shoulder blades, resting his injured right hand at her nape. Mark's indigo blue eyes were mesmerizing to her, despite his hateful remarks.

"You're a very good actress Prin. You almost had me convinced that you really cared about me," Mark whispered against her lips. "No sense in letting all of this quality time go to waste…" There was a time Princess would've given in to his wicked invitation. But not this time.

Mark never saw it coming; the slap had enough force behind it to send him to his knees. And standing over him was one very irate young woman. As far as Princess was concerned, Mark was knee deep in it!

"Get this straight, you arrogant bastard! I am no man's concubine! I will admit Dr. Baxter felt your staying with me might not only be in your best interest but the federation's as well! But this was not my father's idea! Nor do I believe in using sex as a means of getting the job done! It's been my understanding that those who are obsessed with it, are usually also obsessed with something they can't have!" Princess continued to glare at the dazed young man at her feet, cupping his injured cheek. "The way I see it, you have no choice in the matter. You will stay here, but only because _I_ am allowing it! You will participate in the course of action outlined under Center Neptune's guidelines for your rehabilitation! And you will make damned sure that you never insult me that way again, or I will recommend the remainder of your rehab stay be confined to Center Neptune until you learn how to respect those who are trying to help you!" Fury illuminated from within her as Mark got to his feet and returned a frosty blue glare in her direction.

Princess never allowed Mark to respond. She started back towards the beach house, at first walking quickly, before erupting into a blind run, fleeing from what had just happened. She didn't want to make sense of it; knowing only that Mark had hurt her too deeply. For the first time, Princess truly hated him and she began to doubt if she could stand by him. Mark's words continued to haunt her as she ran along the stretch of beach, _"The fight isn't worth it if you have no control over the outcome."_

Her spirit broken, Princess sucked in a deep breath and sank to her knees. She then began to sob uncontrollably.

_Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

_During his first meeting with the psychologist, Mark catches a glimpse of what could be a harsh reality if he continues to alienate his team mates; particularly the young woman he deeply cares for. Still coping with the death (and seemingly betrayal) of his father, Mark begins to realize he can't afford another loss in his life nor can he relinquish his own. No longer wishing to succumb to the secret that he carries, the Eagle decides to confront his inner demons and face them head-on. Will Mark be able to cope on his own? I'm introducing a new character in this chapter, Dr. Paula Benjamin, who'll pave the way for the G-Force commander to accept responsibility for his actions, as well as a future love interest for Jason. A brief nod to George Lucas' Star Wars characters was mentioned in this chapter, they are his characters and definitely not mine. I've purposely thrown in some humor to what is otherwise a serious topic which is suicide. If the subject matter offends, then please don't read any further. Thanks to those of you who continue to show interest. _

Dr. Paula Benjamin continued to stare at the figure of her patient, Mark Beckham, as he feigned interest in the comings and goings of IFPP staff personnel several stories below. The psychologist's office was situated right above the atrium of one of several buildings on the campus of the IFPP (Intergalactic Federation of Peaceful Planets). The young man had been in her office for several minutes and other than stating his name, age, and serial number in a deliberately sarcastic tone, he had not volunteered any more information.

However, though Dr. Benjamin had been known for being a patient woman, she felt the need to coax some form of communication from this obstinate young man. She was a board certified psychologist and had been for all of 12 years; time to put her experience to work. She ran a hand through her close cropped curly hair and uncrossed her legs after swiveling back and forth while seated in her black leather office chair, tapping the surface of her mahogany desk with the ink pen she held in her hand since Mark's arrival. The psychologist briefly recalled some of the information she retrieved about the young commander earlier today in order to prepare herself for their meeting. She had expected Mark to be resistant but he literally wore his benevolence on the sleeve of the dark blue blazer he was wearing. Dr. Benjamin's cocoa colored eyes assessed the rigidity of her patient's stance; the dark sunglasses he wore provided a hood for his blue eyes, the jut of his stubbled jaw was determined, and his arms were folded almost protectively across his chest. _He definitely doesn't want to be here_, Dr. Benjamin surmised. _Time to get started._

"Mark you know I have no other patients to see today. My time is all yours but you do need to make the effort," Dr. Benjamin started quietly.

Mark maintained his silence, only deciding to readjust his sunglasses that had threatened to slide off of the bridge of his nose.

The psychologist continued. "Is it me?" she queried. "Is it because I'm a woman?" She hunched her shoulders. Still no answer. "Is it because I'm a black woman?"

Mark turned towards her then, his angry blue eyes taking in the attractive woman with caramel colored skin and an impish grin on her face. "Don't be stupid!" he hissed.

"Mentioning race or gender always fuels a conversation to some degree!" Dr. Benjamin smirked and leaned back in her swivel chair.

Mark huffed, "Oh so you're a smart ass?" He uncrossed his arms and walked slowly towards her desk. His displeasure at being tricked to speak was evident both on his face and in his voice. Mark placed his hands behind the large cushioned chair in front of Dr. Benjamin's desk, his fingers clutching the back of it for support.

"Well I do have the degrees on my wall to prove it. Basically I analyze information given to me and try to form a logical solution to the problem at hand," the doctor retorted. "But I needed a way to get you to respond to me and you did." This time she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Now I could begin our session with 'Tell me what you don't like about yourself' but that would be so cliché don't you think?"

"I don't want to be here," Mark answered tightly, his knuckles turning pale as he continued to grip the chair's back.

Dr. Benjamin leaned forward and elbowed her desk, grasping her hands together with the ink pen still centered between her fingers. "Neither do I. It's not pleasant for me to sit here and watch a young man throw his life away because he chooses not to face certain realities. Granted those realities were harsh and he was an unfortunate victim of circumstance. But you see, I've read his file and in it I've discovered a remarkable human being. And I believe this young man is capable of fighting for his right to live, but only if he realizes his own self worth and his worth to his team mates." Dr. Benjamin's seriousness of the situation had immediately disintegrated the humor she interjected into their earlier conversation, and she raised her chin slightly letting Mark know that she was not a force to be reckoned with. She lifted a hand towards the chair in front of him, indicating that he should sit down. Reluctantly, Mark did so.

Dr. Benjamin expelled a deep breath and pursed her lips before speaking. "Now I'd appreciate it if you remove those sunglasses while you're in my office. I do look at the eyes as a sort of window to the soul, and I've been pretty good at being able to tell if someone is honest with me or not simply by looking into their eyes."

Mark shifted a bit in his seat at the psychologist's request. His eyes darted from side to side as if though he were contemplating an escape. Yet one look at Dr.Benjamin's face told him that resistance was futile and feeling cornered again, Mark hesitantly removed his sunglasses. His left eye revealed a bluish/purple bruise on it's corner.

Dr. Benjamin sucked in her breath sharply before sputtering. "I don't understand. I don't recall reading of any injuries sustained after you were brought in to Center Neptune's hospital. Yet I see a black eye and an injured right hand," she indicated the final statement by pointing her fingers at Mark's right wrist wrapped in an ace bandage.

"I ran into a door," Mark answered quickly, wanting to end the doctor's perusal of his most recent injury caused by a very angry young woman, and rightfully so. He actually had the good grace to lower his head upon recalling the reason he'd gotten the well deserved slap in the first place. Princess hadn't spoken to him since the occurrence on the beach took place and the drive over to the IFPP campus had been particularly tense. When Princess deposited him at the building's entrance she had all but shoved him out of her SUV and mouthed angrily, "I'll pick you up later," before stomping on the accelerator and taking off.

"So tell me," Dr. Benjamin implored, "Since when do doors have fingers?" Her eyebrows arched suspiciously, taking in the imprint left on Mark's face, knowing he wasn't being honest with her.

Mark leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tepeed his fingers together. "Look Dr. Benjamin, I really don't want to get into it. Let's just say I screwed up royally and leave it at that alright? What do I need to do or say to get out of your office and on with my life?"

Dr. Benjamin began to swivel from side to side once again in her leather chair. "So now you want to go on with your life? If I recall just several days ago you hired the assistance of a prostitute to end it. What made you change your mind now?" Her tone was even and nonjudgmental; her face fixated on her patient for a reaction.

Mark frowned at her scrutiny, his blue eyes darkening at the forwardness of her questions. "You don't believe in pulling any punches do you?"

"I don't have the time and neither do you. I don't expect you to tell me everything that led up to your decision to end your life. I am not here to cure you or even to save you. I am here to help you see that there are other alternatives but in the end the decision has to be yours. You're a young man worthy of another chance; that's why Chief Anderson and Dr. Baxter sent you to see me. They believe that I can help you to pinpoint the source of your depression." Dr. Benjamin then leaned back in her chair, stretching her long legs before her while eyeing Mark at the same time. "Tell me what you think of that."

"Does it really matter what I think? I already told you I don't want to be here. I don't like people poking around inside of my head," Mark answered bluntly. "Just place the blame on my father and Anderson like I do. That should make the paperwork easier for you."

Dr. Benjamin arched a brow before responding. "And when do you begin to take responsibility for your own actions? No one forced you to take a near-lethal dose of an experimental drug to end it all. No one pointed you into the direction of Sector 9. No one has been coercing you into dealing with prostitutes. When does the 'blame game' end Mark?"

Mark opened his mouth to speak, wanting to spew a mouthful at this woman who seemed to know everything about him, but then realized he couldn't. He hated to admit, that so far, Dr. Benjamin had called a spade a spade. The word _coward_ came to mind and he didn't like it at all. Mark pushed himself out of the chair and walked back to the window facing the atrium. He was about to respond before he noticed Jason and Princess in what appeared to be a deep conversation…

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"So out with it Jason! Why didn't you answer my signal the other evening? You told me I could count on you if I needed you and you weren't there!" The Swan finally had the Condor cornered. Jason had been dodging her from the moment she stepped into IFPP Building, literally running in the opposite direction when he caught site of her. He was just about to exit the campus via the atrium when Princess caught up with him, head swerving and all.

Jason was face to face with a pair of stormy green eyes and a look that screamed _'Don't mess with me today!'_ He couldn't tell Princess the entire truth about the scene between him and Mark, but he knew he had to give her something to get her off of his case. She was already only an inch or so under his nose, her feet encased in her favorite pair of butt-kicking high heeled sandals.

"Look Prin I apologize about the other night. I forgot I had some things to take care of involving my sponsors for an upcoming race. I couldn't get out of it." Jason's expression was sheepish, his gray eyes yielding.

Princess folded her arms in front of her and leaned slightly to her right, her stance epitomized her disbelief at what Jason had just told her. "You know I'd almost believe that piece of crap that you just tried to feed me, but I ran into Tiny a few minutes ago." Jason's face fell. "It seems that he was concerned about me taking care of Mark alone and apologized on your behalf for being at his place the other night." Princess clutched at the material of Jason's khaki jacket and then pushed on his chest slightly knocking him off balance. "Tell me, how many bottles of beer did you manage to choke down before you put your foot in it?"

She started to turn on her heel but Jason caught her by the arm. "Wait Prin!" He then pulled her in his direction, but held onto her shoulders holding her at arms length. "Alright, you caught me in a lie. I'm sorry." He sighed heavily before continuing. "Mark and I kind of got into it the other night. We both said some things…things that neither of us can take back. I may have even threatened him a bit." Princess frowned and Jason felt the need to justify his actions. "He kind of got to me." The show of emotions on Princess' face went from anger to exasperation. Jason backed away from her a bit, releasing his hold on her and shoving his hands into the back pockets of his pants. "The next thing I knew I went over to Tiny's and tried to forget about what happened by… drinking a couple of twelve ounces." He then began to rock on his heels; his hands were still stuffed in his back pockets.

Princess crossed her arms once more. "Jason what happened? I knew that things would probably be different between you and Mark for a while, but not enough for you to turn your back on him."

Jason went on the defensive. "Are you for real? I didn't…" he stopped then started again, "Prin let's just say that Mark and I discovered we have something in common." Jason's eyes swept briefly over the _something _in question. "It's a guy thing alright? You wouldn't understand." The Condor had become ambivalent; not wanting to share anything more than he had to. He was still trying to decide exactly how he felt about her. The last thing Princess needed to know was that he and Mark were fighting over her like two dogs over a newfound bone.

Princess' anger returned quickly. "I'm surrounded by testosterone-fueled jackasses! Why don't you and Mark whip out those prized possessions between your legs and measure it to see which one of you carries the biggest stick!"

Jason's gray eyes were the equivalent of thunderclouds. "Yeah and wouldn't you like to be the one holding the ruler?" he shot back taking one step closer to Princess as he pointed an accusatory finger her way. "You aren't going stand there like some self righteous Sunday school teacher and tell me that nothing happened between you and Mark later that night. Anderson may have bought that story you told him the next morning, but I know different and I know Mark. I'm almost certain he took advantage of the situation."

Princess gave Jason a look that could freeze water but Jason noted she didn't deny his suspicions. She hated it when Jason was right and quickly reverted the spotlight back to him. "If you don't want to go into detail about what went down between you and Mark, then fine! I'll take care of things on my own from here on out!" With that being said, the Swan brushed passed the Condor's shoulder and headed back inside the building in which Mark's session was taking place.

Jason's mouth formed a grim line as he raised his head toward the sky. "Damn it!" he muttered under his breath. Deciding not to leave after all, Jason turned on his heels in the direction Princess had just taken only a moment before. He had to make amends. Bottom line was Princess had depended on him, and he had let her down. She deserved better than what he'd just given her.

Jason was making his way toward the elevator once he'd gotten into the lobby of the building. He had seen Princess step through the elevator's sliding doors but she was unaware that Jason was nearby. "Hey Prin wait up!" he called out, increasing his pace in an attempt to reach Princess before the elevator doors closed. Jason didn't see the young woman who had stepped into his path. She was trying to catch the elevator as well.

"Ooof!" was the noise they made when the two collided and the elevator doors slid shut. The young woman was set to collapse when Jason's arms had gathered her to him. The startled figure latched onto Jason's shoulders. The first thing he noticed was a fiery halo of red ringlets and the smell of jasmine drifting into his nostrils before the young woman lifted her face, revealing lavender colored eyes, an upturned nose with a slight dusting of freckles sprinkled about, and full luscious lips as ripe as berries. "Whoa!" was all Jason could say. His eyes drank in the site of what he was holding in his arms. Unfortunately, the young woman wasn't as excited to see Jason as he was to see her.

"Do you mind?" she asked, feeling somewhat violated. Her lavender eyes darkened to a beautiful violet and Jason was certain he felt a surge jolt his cerebonic implant. Before he could apologize, the shapely figure wearing a figure hugging wrap dress pushed herself up and away from him, smoothing her hands over her now wrinkled outfit. He caught a brief glimpse of her I.D. badge. _Rachel Sheridan._ Jason shook his head slightly before eyeing a small clutch bag on the floor the young lady must have dropped after they bumped into one another. He kneeled to retrieve it then extended his hand with her tiny purse as an offering.

"Hey I'm sorry. I was headed for the elevator and didn't see you coming," he stated sincerely as the woman fingered the ringlets of her flaming red mane into order.

The young woman snatched her bag from Jason and gave him the once over before walking past him. "Humph!" she snorted and sauntered toward a set of elevators on the opposite side of the lobby.

Jason called out, placing his hand along the side of his mouth, "You're welcome!" He watched the woman with the curvy figure and staunch attitude disappear through the elevator doors. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. _Note to self; get the digits. _ He stood rooted to the spot for a minute or two before he suddenly remembered he was following Princess and for what reason. Jason punched the elevator's lobby button for the sixth floor…

Jason managed to reach the receptionist's desk outside of Dr. Benjamin's office. The psychologist's office doors were open slightly and he heard Princess' voice rise an octave.

He knocked before peering his head inside. "Excuse me Dr. Benjamin, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

Their previous feud momentarily forgotten, Princess spoke up. "Dr. Benjamin said Mark left about 15 minutes ago." Worry creased the young woman's brow.

Dr. Benjamin turned to Jason. "There's no need to get upset. Mark simply said he was going home. He became somewhat distracted during the latter half of our meeting so he asked to cut it short. We intend to reconvene the day after tomorrow." The psychologist sighed and directed her attention at the Swan. "Princess you're making far too much out of this. Truth be told, I don't see that young man as a threat either to himself or anyone else. He needs guidance and plenty of support. Besides it's not like Mark was wearing a leash."

Jason sputtered before speaking, "Ha! Yes he was!" silently reminding them of the electronic sensor wrapped around Mark's ankle. Princess glared at Jason's back as he stepped toward the large window in Dr. Benjamin's office. He looked out at the various buildings comprising the IFPP campus; his eyes ping-ponged left to right before glancing down at the atrium. Jason stood motionless for a minute. It then dawned on him that Mark was never one to sit still even during a routine physical let alone a session with a psychologist; a sly smile crept upon Jason's features. _15 minutes ago huh?_

"I'm just surprised Mark even referred to the beach house as home. And why didn't he wait for me to pick him up?" Princess asked while standing across from Dr. Benjamin's desk.

Jason spoke over his shoulder. "Mark didn't go to the beach house. He went to his home, at the airstrip." The Condor returned his focus back to the atrium below.

"How can you be so sure? There's no telling where he is now," Princess added rubbing her cheek with a nervous hand.

"Trust me Prin. He went to his place. I know Mark like I know the back of my hand." Jason placed a hand onto the window overlooking the atrium, spreading his fingers apart on the thick glass leaning against it slightly. "I'm his best friend remember?" Now all the Condor had to do was to convince the Eagle of that fact.

Dr. Benjamin eyed the two people in his office shrewdly, taking note of what was taking place. _Jason is Mark's best friend and Mark is currently living with Princess. Interesting. _ She sat on the edge of her desk and watched the interaction between Jason and Princess.

Jason walked over to Princess and reached for her hands, cupping them in his own. "I'm sorry about earlier. I was out of line." His wolf gray eyes softened as he spoke.

Princess was charmed as usual and a small smile fluttered from the corners of her lips. "Me too," she answered simply, her green eyes reflecting sincerity.

Jason blew air slightly from parted lips. "Let me go get him alright?" Princess started to speak but Jason placed two fingers to her lips cutting off the flow of words. "I owe you this one remember? To make up for the other night," he spoke quietly. "I've got your back."

Princess thought for a moment before mouthing a silent 'Thank you.' Jason placed a small kiss to Princess' forehead, gave a nod to Dr. Benjamin, and left the doctor's office.

Princess gazed warmly at the door Jason recently left out of. Dr. Benjamin cleared her throat before speaking, "That's quite a young man you've got there."

Princess clasped her hands below her waist. "He's my best friend too," she responded proudly.

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Mark got out of the cab and paid the fare after being taken to his intended destination. He looked around the airstrip and saw that his plane, the small Cessna he owned, was gone. _It's probably back at Center Neptune,_ he thought. His cherry red sports car was gone as well. _Anderson probably has that at his compound. _ Still it would've been nice to see them where they belonged. Here at _his_ airstrip. Since both his plane and car were in storage, he was pretty certain his personal belongings had been packed up and stored away as well. The cab took off leaving behind a moderate trail of dust. After the blanket of dirt settled, Mark glanced at the small house standing several feet in front of him. _Home._ The Eagle in him returned and after removing his sunglasses, observant blue eyes scanned the area before walking towards the front porch of his house. All seemed clear but something raised a sense of caution within him. Always wary of his surroundings, Mark took another look around before taking his house keys out of his pants pocket and inserting the key into the lock. To his surprise Mark discovered his front door was already opened. He was even more surprised at what he saw.

"Son of a bitch!" Mark cursed loudly as he took in the damage that had been done to his place. His home had been ransacked and torn apart. Mark's eyes devoured the destruction. Furniture had been broken to pieces, glasses shattered, and holes had even been punched into the walls of his small living space. The shelves from his kitchen had been stripped clean; even the cans had been ripped apart. Mark stepped over the debris and went throughout his home, noting that every room had not been left untouched. His office, his bedroom, even his bathroom had the appearance as if grenades had gone off within the vicinity. "Motherfu…," he couldn't even say it without wanting to inflict pain on those responsible. His face hardened as he came to the obvious conclusion of those who had invaded his home. _Spectrans!_, Mark's mind screamed hatefully as he pushed his hands through his hair. He leaned against a portion of a wall that was left in his hallway, his head pointing toward the ceiling. He trembled at the depth of rage that consumed his body, wishing that Zoltar were in his grasp so he could act upon it. _ Zoltar must be trying to put the pieces together. Trying to figure out if Mark Beckham and the commander of G-Force are one and the same; Cronus' son. Only that man wasn't Cronus, he was Colonel Ken Beckham; my father. _For the first time in months, sorrow crept into Mark's thoughts.Achingly, he slid down the wall and crouched against its surface, placing his elbows on his knees, his left leg savoring the weight of the electronic sensor around his ankle. He looked from side to side and exhaled. _What the fuck have I done to myself?_ Mark shut his eyes tightly. _What have I done to my team mates?_

A creaking noise came from the front door causing Mark to quickly open his eyes, placing his body on high alert. His first instinct was to transmute, and he raised his left arm only to realize he was no longer wearing his communicator. _Shit!_ Not that he couldn't defend himself, but it had been a while since Mark had faced several men at once. It would have been nice to have a little back up. He looked around and found a small plank of wood nearby. Grabbing it, Mark cautiously slid back up to a standing position, readying himself for a fight. The crunching sound of glass being stepped on drew treacherously close and Mark took a deep breath before raising his right hand with the two by four above his head.

"What the hell…?" was all that Jason managed to get out before both he and Mark grabbed each others collar.

Simultaneously they released each other, seeing that neither was a threat. Though to Mark, Jason's arrival only served to come at a time he didn't need the interference. Mark tossed the piece of wood into the small mountain of debris behind him and headed for the kitchen.

Jason smirked, "And just what did you intend to do with that piece of lumber you had in your hand?"

"You want me to pick it up and show you?" Mark retorted over his shoulder checking out what was in his refrigerator.

"Never mind." Jason surveyed the front room and whistled before speaking again. "Damn those Spectran frat boys sure know how to party!" he exclaimed sweeping his head from left to right. "You know this place is a true testament to how fucked up your life really is." He stepped over a broken end table to make his way toward the kitchen.

Mark found a can of beer toward the back of the fridge, popped the top, and leaned against his kitchen counter. "Well at least I'm consistent," he answered before taking a sip. A brief pause hung between the two young men before, cutting their eyes at each other, both actually shared a small laugh. Mark shook his head as he continued to down the can of beer.

Jason spoke up. "You know you aren't supposed to be drinking that."

Mark motioned toward the fridge. "There's another one in there if you want it."

"Carry on," Jason urged as he made his way toward the icebox. "I can't believe they left the beer." He then eyed the can and made a face. "Damn it Mark! No wonder! Only you would buy this cheap shit! Didn't I teach you anything?" Jason popped the top on the can and took a sip.

Deciding to ignore the jokes for now, he purposely changed the subject. "Jason why are you here? Surely Prin didn't send you after me."

Jason eyed his friend, only now seeing the bruise near Mark's left eye. "You're right, she didn't. I offered to come and get you. I figured we needed to talk. Though right now I'm a little more interested in how you got that shiner." He pointed at Mark's face while still holding the beer can in his hand.

Mark frowned. "You mean she didn't tell you? I'm surprised." He stepped around the kitchen counter's edge and made his way around the obstacle of debris to get to his front door. Jason followed Mark to his front porch. "I thought she told you everything." Mark looked straight ahead, pretending to focus on the row of grass in the field before him.

Jason stood beside him and continued to sip on his beer. "You know Mark, I never thought I'd see the day those blue eyes of yours would turn green."

Mark downed the last of his beer and crushed the can in his hand. He turned to Jason. "Let's just bring it to the light alright? I am not jealous of you." Despite his denial, Mark's voice was dangerously low.

Jason smiled roguishly and continued to stare straight ahead. "Like hell you aren't! Why did you cut your session with Dr. Benjamin short?" Mark's face continued to harden realizing that Jason guessed the reason for his abrupt exit from the psychologist's office. Deciding this wasn't the best route to take with Mark, Jason shrugged. "Forget it."

A minute or so passed. It didn't appear that Mark was going to keep the conversation going so Jason pressed on. "I take it things aren't going well at the beach house, huh?"

Mark took the crushed beer can and threw it towards the grass field in front of them. "No it isn't."

"I also take it that black eye is a little souvenir from a certain brunette that you must've really pissed off," Jason continued and tried his best to hide the smirk behind the beer can he was still nursing on. He then held the half empty beer can up to the light and proclaimed, "Shit Mark this stuff is actually giving me a buzz! Where'd you get it? Mexico?"

Choosing to ignore those last remarks, Mark answered regretfully, "I said some things that were really stupid and hateful to Princess. I'd give anything to turn back the clock in order to change things." He lowered his head, just thinking about the pain he'd inflicted upon Princess ate at him like a gaping wound.

"I ought to kick your ass just on principle…," Jason started, "but Prin can fight her own battles. This thing is between you and her." He upturned the can, draining the last of the beer.

Mark rubbed his hands over his face, anguish etched in the corners of his mouth. To Jason he appeared very old, despite his age of only being twenty-two. "Will you look at what you're doing to yourself? I know that you've got this Darth Vader slash Luke Skywalker sort of hang up going on with what happened with your father and all…"

"Watch it Jase!" Mark's hackles were up and he was ready to pounce, the tension visible in his shoulders. "You're treading on thin ice. This is none of your concern."

"Then talk to me damn it!" Jason shouted back. "Talk to me! Tell me what's going on! You don't think I haven't been where you've been? Do you know how many times I've put a gun to my temple when I think about what happened with my parents?" Jason's gray eyes displayed his hostility. "How I watched them get gunned down by those fucking Devil Star assassins as an eight year old? How I had to have my identity taken away just to stay alive? The chief changing my name from Joseph Mancini to Jason Devereaux? I felt like those Spectran bastards had taken my soul but my agenda now is to take them down! Not to let them win!" Jason had barely taken a breath between sentences, deciding that Mark needed to hear it all. "This shit will not be over until we defeat them! And I don't want to fight this battle without my best friend beside me!" Jason turned to face Mark, allowing his friend to see the haunted expression that replaced the hostility from before. "You and I both know this was not what Colonel Beckham expected of you. Despite how he did it Mark, your father died a hero. He saved billions of lives. He sacrificed himself not only because it was his duty, but so that you could continue to live on, to carry on his legacy."

Mark inhaled sharply as tears began to form in his eyes. He wiped at his face before they had a chance to fall. "Jason...," he began in a thick voice, "you wouldn't understand. There's more to it than that."

"And a prostitute with orders to kill you does?" Jason asked in a seething tone.

"What do you mean 'Orders to kill me'? I met Valeria in a bar…" Mark tried to explain. "I told her how I felt; that life to me wasn't worth living…"

"She was a Spectran agent hired to kill you once Zoltar got hold of your scent. That drug she helped to concoct was an experimental derivative being tested at the ISO. She used to be a chemist for the federation before switching allegiance to Spectra. You were set up, probably being followed all along after you left Planet Riga. She was hired to kill you before you even decided to kill yourself. Since Valeria failed to carry out her mission, Zoltar and his goon squad murdered her after she allowed Princess to save your sorry ass."

Mark turned and hit the front door of his house with his injured right hand. "I don't believe this shit!" he shouted, wincing at the pain the mild infliction of trauma caused him.

"Why couldn't you do what any red blooded American male does and get with a one night stand?" Jason asked loudly, deciding to turn the tables on him.

Mark looked at Jason incredulously. "What in the hell is the difference between a one night stand and a hooker?"

"Hell about seventy-five dollars! Didn't I teach you anything? I mean come on Mark, a prostitute! What in the fuck were you thinking?" Jason still clutching the empty beer can in his hand, leaned on the railing of the house's porch.

A brief pause hovered in the air before both young men erupted into raucous laughter. More tears even formed in Mark's eyes upon realizing that only Jason could take a serious conversation and turn it into something bordering on the obscene and totally tasteless.

"I don't know man. Valeria was willing and I was able. I just needed a release." Mark answered honestly, suddenly feeling more at ease in Jason's presence.

"You know, eventually you're going to have to bite the bullet and establish a relationship with a woman who doesn't have a mattress strapped to her back," Jason taunted him.

"And since when are you the one to give advice to the lovelorn? I remember a time when Tiny and I use to call you 'The Marathon Man,' able to leap the tallest bedpost in a single bound," Mark shot back at him through narrowed eyes.

Jason puckered his lips and shook his head in amusement before answering. "Yeah well don't hate because I choose to end my dates by having breakfast in bed and leaving with a well deserved good bye kiss at the door. Not flying like a bat out of hell to the 'Bay City Clinic' for a shot of penicillin in my ass like yourself." He then tossed the empty beer can at Mark, hitting him on his shoulder. "By the way, you did use protection didn't you? I mean while you were with …"

Mark stared at Jason in disbelief. "Jason I did try to kill myself. Donning a condom at the time was the last thing on my mind. But to put your mind at ease, I've been checked out and I'm clean." Mark straightened to his full height and stretched a bit, easing the tension from his limbs. He then recalled the scene outside of Dr. Benjamin's office. He hated to ask but felt compelled to know. "What's going on between you and Prin?"

Jason looked directly at Mark and answered honestly. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I will admit that I thought something was there; maybe I wanted something to be there. Prin was there for me when Luci died." He then returned his attention to the grass field before him. "Having a woman, Princess, there made me realize how much more I wanted out of life. Prin made it easy to feel that way once again." Jason shrugged and briefly he thought of the pretty red-head he bumped into earlier at the IFPP Building before continuing. "Hell, Mark just look at Prin. I mean really look at her. Not just for how beautiful she is on the surface, but for what she allows others to see on the inside." Jason then gave Mark a harsh look. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I love her, I'll always love her, and she will always be my girl. If for one second I felt that you were going to slither back into that pathetic hole you had created for yourself after your father was killed, I'd do everything in my power to keep her away from you. I'd have seen to it that she not crawl into that grave with you. But I'm not in love with her and she's not in love with me." Jason wanted to tell Mark more but his loyalty to Princess won out. She had confided her feelings to Jason months ago and he promised he'd keep his mouth shut. Princess had _'Eagle on the brain.' _ Mark would have to earn her love and respect as far as he was concerned.

A look of complete understanding was silently exchanged between the two young men. Feeling as if though he'd been warned of impending consequences should he mistakenly hurt the young woman who meant so much to both of them, the Eagle extended his hand to the Condor.

Jason accepted the offering and shook Mark's hand. He was about to remove it but Mark maintained his grasp. "Princess means more to me than you believe. It was never my intention to hurt her. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make up for what I've done or said, but I will tell you this. After I get my life back in order, I'll see to it that you aren't the only one she turns to. I intend to fix things." His voice was calm but meaningful and he released his hold on Jason's hand.

His friend nodded his head approvingly, having heard Mark state he intended to straighten out his life was good enough for him. Just then a gleam of light flashed on their faces and both men turned toward the source. Mark frowned as he watched what appeared to be a pair of unsavory characters scoping his house and its occupants through a pair of binoculars, just over the hill past the grass field.

He nudged Jason's elbow. "You see that?"

Jason nodded, his mouth forming a grim line, staring in the same direction as Mark. "Yeah Spectrans at six o'clock."

Mark grimaced, "Is your car out back?"

"Yep. I say we make a bee line for it going out the back door of your house, but slowly and get the hell out of here. I'm sure I can lose them in the city." Jason straightened and rolled his shoulders, checking the Spectran voyeurs one last time before heading into Mark's house.

"I'm way ahead of you." Mark patted Jason's shoulder as he opened the front door, but stopped short causing Jason to raise a brow. "Listen…I just wanted to say thanks for everything…Joe." A small smile and a nod of the head were offered with genuine sincerity.

Jason cocked his head to the side and mirrored Mark's smile at the mention of his biological name. "Anytime, man. Anytime." A balling of fists and a brief tapping of their knuckles occurred before walking into the house and closing the door behind them.

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

_The story continues as Mark comes to realize that his actions may have cost him the respect of the one person he values the most in his life, Princess; and at a time when he needs her the most. Is what the Eagle experiencing truly withdrawal or something more sinister? Wanting to put the past behind them, can Princess cast her doubts about Mark aside, and provide him with the support he needs despite the anguish he's caused the G-Force team? Still haunted by memories of his father's demise, the need to prove himself to his team mates, and with Spectran agents in pursuit, will the stress be too much for the Eagle to handle? Sorry for the delay, but I've been swamped with work and family obligations. Thanks to those who remain interested._

Jason Devereaux's reputation as one of the world's best racecar drivers preceded him. The young man had proven his worth as he jettisoned through the streets of Bay City in an attempt to protect Mark's identity from being further compromised. Evening was approaching and Spectran agents were in hot pursuit after Mark had been identified by one of their own agents, right after he had arrived at his place on his private airstrip. Both cars tore through the city, leaving unbelievably, only minor damages in their wake. The Condor had shown remarkable endurance, weaving between cars at a grueling pace, a trail of dust and gravel the only remnants that he'd been in the vicinity. In the end he came out victorious, having lost the Spectrans in traffic at the peak of rush hour. The Condor's passenger was nonetheless amazed, but grateful for his friend's exceptional talent behind the wheel._ It seems as if though everyone is saving me at one point or another,_ Mark surmised in silence. He quickly cast a glance at his naked left wrist, missing his G-Force communicator. Suddenly he felt out of place, as if though he had lost his sense of belonging. He watched the city lights dim through the passenger's side door mirror, his reflection shadowed against the glass. It was becoming all too apparent that Zoltar and his Spectran hit men were gaining ground into discovering who Mark Beckham really is.

Jason glanced at Mark briefly out of the corner of his eye, while veering his sports car toward the exit heading for the coastal highway, shifting his car into fifth gear. He knew Mark was putting on a brave front; this afternoon's events had particularly shaken him. Add the violation of his home to the list of things that had gone wrong along with the discovery and loss of his father, and his suicide attempt; Jason questioned just how much more stress Mark's mental and emotional state could tolerate. He watched his friend sitting in the passenger seat, arms folded across his chest, as he appeared engrossed in thought. Mark's brow was furrowed into a serious line, the deep set of his eyes made it seem as if though he were trying to penetrate a hole into his passenger window; his jaw was stern. Despite Mark having been suspended from the team, Jason couldn't see him as anything other than commander of G-Force when he appeared this way. He shook his head slightly from side to side before returning his attention back toward the winding curves of the coastal highway.

Silence hovered between the two young men for several minutes and Mark couldn't take it anymore. He felt compelled to speak; believing at the very least he owed Jason was his gratitude for saving his hide once more. "Listen Jase…," he began, but as soon as the words left his mouth a gnawing ache gripped at him from within. Mark doubled over and clutched at his stomach. The hairs on his skin felt like needles pricking at his insides, and a sheen of perspiration had washed over him within moments.

"Mark you don't have to say anything…," Jason replied but immediately faltered upon seeing the change that had overtaken his best friend. "Mark! What's wrong? What's happening with you?" Jason demanded as his eyes darted back and forth from his suddenly ill passenger to the road. "What's going on?"

It took every effort for Mark to catch his breath before speaking. "Don't know." He licked his dry lips before continuing, "Get me…get me back…back to the beach house." Mark cupped his face in between his trembling hands. _I thought I had this thing beat! I'm not supposed to want the drug; my implant's defense mode is supposed to help me through this! _

"Mark, I think I should take you to Center Neptune; man you look like shit!" Jason answered in a blunt tone. "I don't like the looks of you right now at all!" Jason's foot eased down a little more on the accelerator and the car picked up speed in seconds.

"No!" Mark turned to the driver and shouted adamantly. "Don't even…don't even think about it!" His head was pounding with the force of a freight train and his vision was blurring. "Besides…the beach house is closer than C.N.'s pier entrance." Mark leaned back into his seat and swallowed at the bile threatening to rise at the back of his throat, shutting his eyes tightly he added breathlessly, "And at the rate you're driving now…I expect us to take flight at any moment." Mark grinned slightly but his attempt at humor was cut short by the gnarling pain felt once again in his stomach; he grasped at the thighs of his blue jeans.

"But Mark," Jason tried to reason with him, his grey eyes expressing his depth of concern. "I don't think Princess can handle this sort of thing…"

"Princess…took care of me before," Mark responded brusquely glancing at Jason out of the corner of his eyes. "I…I trust her." Closing his eyes once more, Mark realized that he meant those words. Princess had never left his side. She was the first person he saw when he came out of unconsciousness while in the hospital. She was there for him when he experienced the throes of withdrawal the first time. Only this time Mark didn't expect the symptoms to continue; he believed his cerebonic implant's defense mechanism should've already eliminated the drug's toxic effects. But something wasn't right; Mark hadn't been given an ordinary drug. It was an experimental derivative, its purpose still relatively unknown. And it was given to him by a Spectran operative, formerly an ISO chemist. Ethically, the right thing to do would be to return to Center Neptune but Mark couldn't bring himself to do so. _I believe Prin to be right about one thing; those researchers would have a field day with me! Talk about being a lab rat! _Mark thought to himself between bouts of stabbing pain. _Prin has gone to such lengths to protect me; there has to be a reason behind that! Her intuitiveness is something I can rely on._ Mark grimaced as another bout of discomfort attacked his body and immediately his mind recalled the things he'd done and said to the Swan, wishing he could take back the hurt he caused her. _Who the hell am I kidding? I've been a real dick! I wouldn't blame Prin if she shut the door in my face once we got to the house! _But he needed help and he needed it now. Deciding to swallow his pride and take a chance on blind faith, Mark ordered, "Take me to Princess," speaking with as much force as he could muster. "She'll know…what to do." Mark leaned his head slightly, giving in to the fatigue that was now conquering his body. Silently he prayed that Princess hadn't given up on him yet.

Jason glanced warily at Mark once more and nodded his head reluctantly._ Eagle, I sure hope you know what in the hell you're doing! _he thought to himself. Jason shifted the car into overdrive and roared toward the beach house.

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Meanwhile, Princess was reviewing the information Keye had given to her before leaving the IFPP earlier that afternoon; her back against the plush pillows of the couch with her longs legs extended and crossed at the ankles. The Swallow had managed to hack into ISO's database and retrieved restricted information about Valeria Odomodu, the research facility's former chemist turned Spectran operative. It was Valeria who introduced the derivative to the ISO's leading researchers, though no word or explanation had been given on how she obtained it or how she produced the drug. Its base was to act on the body's chemical makeup during anxiety or abnormal apprehension. A normal human subject couldn't withstand the level of receptors introduced into the body. But Valeria wanted to test it on subjects who were scientifically enhanced, namely G-Force. Princess' perceptive green eyes scanned the notes she held in her hands, her nails almost slicing into the pages. _That bitch!_ Princess thought scathingly and shook the file slightly that was in her grasp; she knew that she was being biased against Valeria. Particularly after finding her on top of a half-naked Mark while he was lying virtually unconscious on the prostitute's bed.

Princess placed the file on the small living room table, stood up and walked toward the kitchen's patio doors, her eyes taking in the view of the ocean's vast shoreline. Dusk had cast a shadow over the beach, pretty much like her mood at the moment. No matter how hard she tried to push the image of Valeria and Mark lying in bed out of her mind, that image always returned to taunt her…

_Mark had been missing for several days and Princess, tired of the Federation red tape she had to cut through in order to send out a search team to locate a G-Force officer, decided to find Mark on her own. She'd been following him around at one point, worried about his state of mind, and much to her disappointment, noticed that Mark would migrate towards Sector 9. The area was known for its high level of criminal activity, mostly Spectran. Unfortunately many of the inhabitants of Sector 9 were people who were poor and underprivileged; a large number of them virtually homeless as a result of the Spectran mech attacks on Bay City in recent months. The Federation had been at a loss, wanting to evacuate the areas inhabitants and destroy that section of the city, but was overwhelmed with compassion for sparing the lives of those who lost so much or had so little to begin with. Numerous metropolitan cities had been devastated from Spectran attacks. Relocation efforts were useless; there was no safe haven._

_Princess had been frantically seeking Mark's whereabouts for hours after she arrived in Sector 9. Displaying a picture of Mark and saying he was her missing brother wasn't getting her anywhere. The only thing that talked was money, and after handing out tens and twenties to people claiming to have seen Mark "just recently," Princess decided she had enough. The final straw came when she had been accosted by a pimp in a local dive; demanding to know who she was and why was she searching for one of his "best customers." Princess' control snapped and she grabbed the foul-mouthed thug by his testicles. "I'll see to it that you pee sitting down from now on if you don't tell me where he is!" A small crowd of onlookers began to gather and gleefully monitored the situation as Princess continued to put the squeeze on. "Tell me!" Princess' voice rose urgently. The thug provided her with an address before he passed out at her feet._

_Princess opened the door of the prostitute's apartment with the tenacity of a bulldozer. She almost took the door's hinges off, having kicked it in with her booted foot. There she found him, lying flat on his back, spread eagled with a partially clothed Valeria straddling his hips. The prostitute looked over her shoulder at Princess standing in the beaded doorway of her bedroom; surprised at the intrusion but was rewarded by the look of shocked disbelief on the young woman's face that had just broken into her apartment. From all appearances it appeared as if though the couple were enjoying themselves, and Princess biting her bottom lip in consternation, her eyes watering at what she'd just witnessed, had begun to walk away. She had begun to believe her hunch was wrong until she heard Mark's breathing. Better yet, his labored breathing. The sound was like a distress call; a gurgly noise akin to that of a drowning man. Princess stepped toward the bed and stared in repugnance as she saw that Mark was barely conscious, his blue eyes opened but opaque, his skin was damp with a ghostly pale pallor, his lips and fingertips exhibited a dusky blue hue. Mark was dying right in front of her!_

_Princess shoved Valeria off of Mark, the prostitute landing on her behind with a thud on the floor. "Hey what the…?" Valeria remarked._

"_Jesus, Mark what have you done to yourself?" Princess cried loudly, checking the side of his neck for a carotid pulse. It was faint, but beating with the capacity of racehorse. His skin was cold and clammy. Princess turned to Valeria, who was trying to make a quick exit out of the front door of her apartment. Princess caught up with her, grabbing her by the lapels of her short silk gown and shoved her up against the nearest wall. "What have you given him?" Princess demanded angrily._

_The prostitute sneered defiantly, "I didn't do anything to him that he didn't want me to do. I showed him a good time right up until the end. But I've got to tell you girlfriend; his endurance was remarkable. You don't know what you've been missing." Valeria's eyes were the color onyx, dark and devious. She enjoyed goading the intruder almost as much as she enjoyed sex._

"_There's something you fail to understand," Princess began, her green eyes darkening to a dangerous black, "You're the only one in this room who likes being screwed." Feeling she had no other choice, nor the time, Princess pulled out the small 'hand cannon' she had hidden at the base of her back, tucked into the waist of her jeans. Jason had long ago suggested should any of them pursue a lead on their own and choosing to remain out of BirdStyle, a gun might prove useful even if it were just for show. She had worn a denim jacket to conceal the weapon for just such an emergency. "I'm not here to play twenty questions! Now what did you give him? What did you mean by right up until the end?" Princess pushed the revolver against Valeria's throat, inwardly seething at the use of her choice of words regarding Mark in the past tense._

_Apparently this did the trick. "It…it's a special derivative; a concoction made in a laboratory. Look he said he was tired of being lied to, that his feelings didn't seem to matter to anyone. He asked me to help him get over his pain…," the prostitute answered hurriedly, she actually had the grace to tremble._

_Princess wanted more information, but the sound of Mark's breathing caught her attention, becoming shallower, sounding as if though he were air hungry. Thinking she could now make a break for it, Valeria shoved Princess away, pushing at her face as she tried to escape, knocking the gun out of her hand. Princess was too quick for her, however, and after balling her right hand into a fist, struck Valeria on the jaw, knocking her unconscious to the floor. _

"_Was it good for you?" Princess asked the injured party, kneeling as she replaced the gun back in its original position. "Because it sure as hell was for me!" She then stood up and turned on her heel to reassess Mark before dressing him as quickly as she could. The most she could do was put on his jeans and to throw his shirt over his head. She checked his left wrist before remembering Mark's communicator had been revoked right before his disappearance. He had been suspended._

_Princess knew she couldn't leave out front so the fire escape was the best alternate route. Placing Mark's arm around her shoulder and clutching the waistband of his jeans, she hoisted him up against her side and eased him out of the window…_

_The rest of that evening had been a blur, a rolodex of images passing before Princess' eyes. Rushing towards the checkpoint at the Pacific Coast's pier after contacting Chief Anderson to tell him that she found Mark; her eyes veering from right to left in a panic as she supported Mark's slumped shoulders with her right hand begging him to hold on. Seeing the team's look of disbelief as their team mate and friend was being loaded onto a stretcher and into a mini-submarine to get him to Center Neptune without a moment to spare. At one point Mark had stopped breathing right before the sub's hatch had begun to close, the team watched with painful dismay as the medical team placed the pads of a defibrillator on Mark's chest. Princess had begun to race toward the vessel but was stopped abruptly by Jason. He had reached out for her arm and literally snatched her to him as the vessel began to submerge underneath the ocean's murky depths. Jason had placed Princess' head to his shoulder in an attempt to calm and comfort her, while Keye and Tiny stood nearby ready to console her. She almost succumbed to the feel of Jason's hands smoothing her hair and rubbing her back as he held her tightly. But she remembered her numerous attempts at trying to convince the team that Mark needed help, only to be ignored because 'as a woman, you just wouldn't understand.' Her nerves tightly wound, Princess shoved away from Jason and stared angrily at the remaining three male members. Her green eyes sparkling with tears and defiance as she yelled accusingly at them, "I told you there was something wrong! I was worried Mark might try something like this and none of you believed me!" Princess, with the tears now streaming from her eyes, clutched a fistful of hair into her hands at the top of her head and turned to stare back at the pier where the vessel carrying their commander and friend had just submerged._

_Tiny and Keye lowered their heads, too ashamed to admit their role in denying that Mark needed any kind of help. As comrades, they felt as if though they had dishonored their G-Force commander. Jason walked achingly to Princess; feeling he of all people should've sensed Mark's suffering. He reached for her, touching her shoulders as he turned her slowly to face him. "Prin…," Jason began, his voice full of agonizing emotion, his grey eyes cloudy with the threat of his own tears about to fall, "I'm…we're all sorry." Princess looked up at Jason's pained expression and watched his bottom lip quiver, "God Prin…," his resolve had broken and the damn had finally burst as the Condor, in a rare show of emotion, began to cry, "I'm so sorry." Princess wrapped her arms around his neck, as she too, gave into her own anguish and allowed herself to cry openly for the young man who meant so much to all of them…_

An urgent pounding at the front door disrupted Princess' thoughts, though silently she was grateful to be rid of reminders of the recent past. _Jason must've found Mark_, she concluded and rushed hurriedly to the front door. Princess' mouth was agape at what she was witnessing before her. "What in the world…," she whispered in astonishment.

With one arm thrown around Jason's shoulder for support and the other hand splayed against the open door, a very ill Mark appeared before her once more. He appeared to display the same symptoms he had when he had seemingly gone through withdrawal only a few days ago. Mark's skin was dripping with perspiration; his face was bleak and pale, his russet colored hair fell like strings onto his shoulders. It didn't appear as if though he could go any further on his own , let alone stand, but fortunately Jason was there with one arm clutching his torso while the other gripped Mark's arm thrown over his shoulder.

Princess had stepped aside to let Jason assist Mark into the house but Jason raised his hand. "Prin he won't let me." This caused Princess to raise a questioning brow in Mark's direction. Jason sighed before he continued, "He won't let me help him inside until he says what he feels he has to." Jason's grey eyes pleaded with Princess for understanding.

Princess, ready for some idle tale, particularly now upon smelling beer on the breaths of both men, folded her arms across her chest. Skepticism was visible on her lovely features but upon seeing the determined look generating from Mark's eyes, Princess decided to at least give him a chance. She focused on Mark's wary face as he began to speak; his breath hot against her cheeks.

"I…I won't…I can't come inside until…I apologize for everything." Mark was breathless as he spoke but he pressed on, shutting his eyes tightly. "I've been nothing more than a major pain in the ass…to you particularly…" It was then that he opened his eyes once more, this time capturing Princess' as he continued, his manner was beseeching. "I never meant to…it wasn't my intention to hurt you…but I did. Part of me…felt that I needed to know if you…were on my side," Mark said through gritted teeth as he fought off the discomfort that was consuming him from within. "No one…no one seems to think that…I should feel…feel the way that I do about…my father." Mark grimaced, his face contorted with a mixture of anguish and pain, both physical and emotional. "All they…all they see is a hero," he choked. "They don't know anything about him as a father, or a husband…Matt told me…"

The mention of his brother's name raised the brows of both Jason and Princess. Before Mark could say anymore his knees began to buckle underneath him. For some reason the weight of the sensor on his left ankle seemed heavier than before. Instantly Princess reached out for him and Jason tightened his grip on his friend. "Mark, it's alright man. Look let's just go in the house…"

"No…no, please…just let me finish," Mark interrupted shaking his shaggy head, his hand still surprisingly holding onto the door, barring his own entrance across the door's threshold. "Princess…I realize I have no right to ask this of you…," his voice humbled with all of the sincerity he could muster, "I'm asking you…I'm begging you to help…help me please…I don't understand what's happening to me." Princess covered her hands to her mouth, her green eyes misting as Mark looked directly at her. He refused to look away, wanting her to see him as he was, to let her know he was being completely honest with her. "I don't know what …I don't know what I've been given…but I swear to you I'm not…using anything nor do I want to…but something inside of me…something is telling me that I need it. I'm not…an addict!" Mark's voice began to crack under the strain and he lowered his face to the floor.

Princess stepped towards Mark's exhausted figure. She placed her cool hands to his burning face, urging him to look at her again. Mark swore silently to himself, not wanting her to get too close to him. Yet he had no choice as Princess smoothed his damp hair away from his forehead; surprising him when she kissed him softly on that very spot.

She combed the length of Mark's hair with her fingers. "I'm here…we're all here for you." Princess nodded in Jason's direction, including him in the conversation, as his grey eyes silently thanked her for saying that. Mark needed to know he could trust all of them.

Princess removed one hand from Mark's face to cup the side of Jason's neck. An air of genuine affection radiated between the Swan and the Condor causing a stab of jealousy to spear at the Eagle's gut…literally. Mark groaned loudly as the spasm pierced his stomach.

"Let's get you inside pal." Jason led Mark into the house as Princess stepped back to let them gain access inside the living room. She closed the door behind them.

"Now tell me what happened," Princess stated as she stepped around the young men looking over her shoulder, "Starting with that beer I smell coming from the both of you." She was leading them into the bedroom Mark had been using.

"Now Prin it's not what you think," Jason started as he eased Mark onto the edge of the bed. "I found Mark at his place. His house had been broken into and torn apart. Mark was in the middle of it." He helped ease Mark out of his blazer.

Princess gasped as she urged Mark to face her, "Were you hurt?" She touched his forehead, grabbed his shoulders, and rubbed his upper arms.

Mark couldn't believe how concerned she appeared to be. He felt awful for causing worry to reflect from those magnificent rainforest green eyes. What he wanted to do was to put her mind at ease. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"God you look so beautiful," Mark sputtered not realizing the words had left his mouth until it was too late. _Where the hell did that come from? I didn't mean to say that! _Everything began to turn blue, then purple, then green before he fell back onto the mattress.

Princess was taken aback and in her surprise turned to Jason, who was kneeling on the floor removing Mark's shoes.

"What? Don't look at me. He was speaking to you," Jason lifted his chin in her direction.

Princess turned to look at the limp figure lying on the bed. She leaned over, believing Mark had fainted from fever and fatigue. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched on either side. She leaned over and began to unbutton his shirt. Princess moved the material aside, brushing her hands against Mark's damp chest, when he enclosed his hands around her wrist surprising her once more. The movement caused Princess to look up quickly, her large eyes meeting Mark's partially veiled blue ones.

"The…the first time…I kissed you…I swear it was…like tasting warm honey and peaches," he murmured pulling her closer, a faint smile on his full lips.

Princess snatched her wrists out of Mark's grip only to look up and catch Jason watching their interaction with renewed interest. A cherry red tint had stained Princess' cheeks. Mark had again passed out.

"He's obviously delirious," she muttered and stood up from the bed to smooth her hair behind her ears.

"Obviously," Jason grinned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to Mark. He looked over his shoulder at his friend, deliberately changing the subject. "Prin we only had a beer to talk things through. Nothing else. Mark said he wants to get better and I believe him." Jason then returned his focus to Princess. "We were spotted by Spectran agents at his airstrip. Once we realized we were being watched, we hauled ass out of there. They tried to follow us but I lost them in the city." Jason returned another worrisome look over his shoulder at Mark. "On our way back here Mark became ill. I can't explain it. He seemed fine when we left. Is he gonna be alright?"

Princess folded her arms across her chest. "He should be though now I'm beginning to question the source. We went through this the other night," she answered quietly.

Jason turned to stare thoughtfully at her. "So Mark told me, though not in so many words. I offered to take him to Center Neptune but he refused. He said that he wanted to come here. He said that you would help him."

"Of course he wouldn't want to go to Center Neptune. He believes he has it easy here," Princess retorted, a small scowl etched across her brow, although silently she had hoped Mark was beginning to place his faith in her.

Jason shook his head. "No Prin. It's not just that. He trusts you. That's important considering all that he has to deal with right now. Maybe he'll confide in you what he won't to me or to anyone else at this time." Jason moved from the bed to stand next to Princess.

"So you think Mark's hiding something too?" Princess asked as she reluctantly shifted her glance from Mark to Jason. "I haven't heard him mention Matthew in years."

Jason brow furrowed. "Me either," he responded in a clipped voice. "Makes you wonder what's going on in that shaggy head of his."

Princess continued, "I've been reviewing the file Keye gave me. I'm beginning to question whether it's actually withdrawal Mark is experiencing. The symptoms are similar, but it doesn't add up that he can function one moment and become ill the next. It seems as if though something is triggering this response."

Jason then removed his jacket and began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. He sighed heavily before saying, "Well I'm here for the night. I'm not letting you take care of Mark alone so where do I start?"

Princess pointed at Mark and instructed, "Take off the rest of his clothes. I'll go run a tepid bath for him. I'm certain he's burning up with fever. Once Mark is settled I'll put a pot of coffee on; this could be a long night."

Princess started to leave but Jason latched onto her upper arm. "Wait a second. Why don't I run the bath and you get him undressed? You've obviously done this for him before Honey Lips," he spoke in a sordid undertone.

"I thought taking off someone's clothes was your specialty?" Princess returned sweetly though her tone was filled with sarcasm.

"Yeah, women's clothes not some dude's. Look I love Mark like a brother but this is where even I draw the line and I'm almost certain Mark would agree with me. If he wakes up and finds _me_ taking off _his_ clothes, there's no telling what type of damage that could do to him not to mention my reputation. If you're kneeling at his feet when he wakes up he'll just curse himself for not remembering what could've been a pleasant experience if he were conscious." Jason scurried past Princess and threw back over his shoulder. "Tepid water right? Not cold!"

"Coward!" Princess shouted back before pivoting on her bare feet to stand at the edge of the bed. She smoothed her damp palms over her hips before lowering herself next to Mark's side. Princess touched Mark's exposed chest, feeling the heat rise from him underneath her hands. Hurriedly she removed Mark's shirt and blue jeans. _I'm glad that you're beginning to feel that you can trust me. I just hope that I can live up to your expectations. _Princess then fingered the waistband of Mark's boxers and smiled knowingly to herself. _Warm honey and peaches huh? _Princess sobered and shook her head slightly. "Come on Eagle. Let's get you into that bathtub." Gingerly, she placed Mark's arms over her shoulders and lifted him off of the bed...

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_Meanwhile on the outskirts of Bay City…_

A dark cruiser was parked beneath a lone street lamp in the vicinity of Sector 9. Another car pulled alongside the cruiser; its inhabitants were the Spectran agents that had made an attempt at following the car of, unbeknownst to them, G-2 aka the Condor of G-Force.

The agents exited the car and made their way to stand at attentionbefore the rear passenger door of the first vehicle. The other driver opened the door to allow Commander Garrett out of the cruiser. Garrett was the superior officer in the search for the son of Colonel Cronus, who sabotaged the efforts of the Spectran's Doomsday weapon by sacrificing his own life. Since that time Lord Zoltar had made it a priority to seek for Cronus' surviving family, believing that the young man who came to seek Cronus' whereabouts on Planet Riga before the launching of the Doomsday missile was not only Mark, but the commander of G-Force.

Garrett, standing well over six feet, possessed dark looks and exhibited a threatening presence that did not go unnoticed by his Spectran cohorts. He was known for his hatred of Earthlings and despised the way Zoltar had failed in his efforts to overtake the planet and its existing allies. He did not tolerate the deficiencies of his men when it came to completing a job. His handlings of failures reported to him were considered legendary, though many considered them rumors. Garrett had been instrumental in Valeria's demise, informing Lord Zoltar that she allowed Mark to escape with a then unidentified woman.

Garrett took a drag off of the cigarette he had in his mouth before asking in a cloud of smoke along with a deep gravelly voice, "Did you manage to find the target's location?" Garrett preferred to use the word _'target'_ as opposed to the name of the intended victim.

The two agents looked at each other before one of them decided to speak. "We lost them in the city sir. The driver seemed to have more skill behind the wheel than we could've given him credit for."

A deep scowl had been tunneled into Garrett's brow causing the agent who had previously spoken to step back. The other officer continued, "Sir, the driver of the car did seem familiar. I could've sworn it was Jason Devereaux; I've seen his face on television and in the papers. He races cars for a living."

Garrett contemplated before responding, tossing the remnants of his cigarette and crushing the butt with his foot on the pavement. "The target seems to run with a host of characters. The young woman who saved him has been identified as the Galaxy Security chief's daughter, Princess Anderson. She's been spotted in Bay City also. We'll bide our time for now. They can't hide forever."

The first officer asked, "But shouldn't we relay this information to Lord Zoltar? Shouldn't we tell him what we discovered?"

"No!" Garrett adamantly announced. "The time has come for Zoltar to step aside! Why should he bask in the glory that my hard work has provided? For too long, Spectra has suffered under the rule of that weak bastard! If I provide the Luminous One with the son of Cronus and quite possibly the commander of G-Force then I will reap the reward and suggest the execution of Zoltar! Then I will rule Spectra as it was meant to be!" Garrett's voice exuded an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.

He stepped closer to the officers standing in front of him and cast a look at both men. "Which one of you was the driver chasing the target?"

The first officer responded guardedly. "It was me sir."

In seconds a blade appeared in Garrett's hand and he sliced off the right hand of the driver with expert precision. Garrett produced a maniacal smile as the driver fell to his knees shouting in excruciating pain. The second officer was rooted to the pavement, his eyes fixated on the spew of blood erupting from the amputated limb. Garrett's driver never flinched; he had seen it coming.

Commander Garrett swiveled on his heels toward his cruiser's rear passenger side, his driver opening the door for him. "The rumors are true gentlemen. I never tolerate failure." He had spoken over his shoulder, his tone sinister and unyielding before entering his cruiser, leaving the two remaining officers to deal with the bloody consequences. Within moments the Spectran cruiser had disappeared into the dark of night.

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

_Mark is beginning to overcome the adverse reactions of the drug given to him by the Spectran prostitute, with Princess in the role of caregiver. She accidentally discovers an item from Mark's past that quite possibly could shed some light on his previous self-destructive behavior. When confronted, however, Mark makes a startling confession that even Princess was unprepared to hear. Once more I apologize for the long delay; again family and work take precedence. Thanks to those of you who remain interested._

_How much more of this can he take?_ Princess thought as she sponged Mark's forehead with a cool cloth; her worried eyes ever watchful for any changes in his condition. Mark had managed to fight off the fever; time spent in the bathtub submerged in tepid water helped but the remains of the illness were still within the confines of his body. The body aches, the perfuse sweating, and nausea with vomiting had pummeled him; leaving him even more exhausted than before. After the bath, Jason had helped Princess guide a semi-conscious Mark back to his bed. Jason returned to the kitchen while Princess readied Mark for bed, helping him into his boxers, and sitting with him until the restlessness left his tired body.

She sighed heavily and placed the cloth aside, her eyes never leaving the figure lying now motionless in bed. Seeing Mark so helpless and feeling as if though she couldn't do enough, Princess leaned forward and began stroking at the damp mahogany hair clinging to his moist brow. "What are you hiding Eagle?" she whispered. "What provoked such misery in you that you felt it necessary to die? And what does Matthew have to do with it?" she probed, wishing that Mark would answer her questions. Her eyes traveled down the length of his body and came to rest on the sensor enveloping his left ankle; the device a painful reminder of why the troubled young man was in his current situation. Suddenly Mark groaned something inexplicable and turned onto his side away from Princess. His movement startled her momentarily and a tiny gasp escaped from her lips. She watched him for a moment longer before reaching for the bed sheet. Biting her bottom lip, Princess placed it carefully over Mark's shoulder. She remained there for several minutes and monitored Mark's vital signs via use of the tiny hologram cast from her G-Force communicator; satisfied that Mark had stabilized before she decided to leave. Princess stood up from the bed to turn off the bedside lamp and padded quietly toward the bedroom door. She turned the knob and let herself out closing the door behind her.

Slowly Mark shifted slightly in the direction of the closed door and watched it through weary blue eyes. He hadn't meant to turn Princess into his nursemaid and he cursed himself for doing so unwittingly. _Even when I don't mean to I'm becoming more of a burden to her. _Enveloped within the dark room, Mark turned onto his back and covered his face with his hands hoping that sleep would eventually claim him.

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafting in the air led Princess toward the kitchen. She knew Jason would be there waiting for her; wanting to know how she managed to care for Mark without informing Chief Anderson or Dr. Baxter of the side effects from the drug given to him by the Spectran agent. As helpful as Jason had been with caring for Mark, she felt him watching her the whole time, his wolf gray eyes mindful of every detail. It's as if though he were making a mental checklist of how much time and effort it took to tend to Mark's needs.

Princess saw Jason leaning against the small island centered in the middle of the kitchen, mug in hand. He gestured for her to sit, nodding his head in the direction of the table against the wall. She noted that he'd already poured her a cup and she raised a brow ready to ask if cream and sugar were already added.

Jason held up a hand cutting off the flow of words before she had a chance to continue, his gray eyes mocking her. "Yes. Three teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of milk." Princess muttered a small 'Thank you' and sat down in the chair at the table. Jason placed his mug on the table before turning the other chair around and straddled the seat, leaning his elbows on the back of the chair.

A minute or so passed in companionable silence as they each drank their hot coffee. Princess maintained her focus on the murky remnants in her coffee's mug while Jason regarded her thoughtfully.

"How is Mark now?" Jason asked simply before draining the remains of his mug and placing it on the small table.

Princess nodded while speaking. "Better. This time wasn't as bad as the last. He fought if off well." She fingered the rim of her mug with one hand.

Jason nodded also. "Good." He looked around the kitchen though not searching for anything in particular. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to look at the young woman sitting across from him, as if though he needed to find the courage to speak. Closing his eyes tightly, Jason spoke somberly, "I had no idea Prin…no idea how much it took ….took for you to care for him." He opened his eyes to look directly at Princess; the guilt beginning to pour from him. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you …or for Mark the other night. I should've been here…"

Setting her mug aside Princess reached for Jason's hands, surprised to find them trembling and enveloped them within her own. "Don't do this to yourself Jase. Mark wouldn't want it. And he's here now; with us. That's all that matters." She massaged Jason's hands in an attempt to comfort him. Mark was more than a best friend, as close to him as any blood brother could be. She didn't want Jason beating himself up over this.

Jason looked into Princess' face, her demeanor reassuring. He nodded again, regaining his composure. "Yeah…you're right." He looked around the kitchen again, trying to put his words together. "It's just that I remember the guy he was you know? The one who always exuded such optimism it literally drove me crazy! Nothing could faze him!"

Princess smiled in agreement, her eyes misting at Jason's accurate description of their friend. "I think that guy still exists Jase. He just needs to find his way back to us."

Jason continued reminiscing, his eyes mirroring a time that seemed so long ago. "Even after the Spectrans had given us a good ass kicking, Mark was the one who kept looking for the silver lining in every cloud. He managed to keep it all together, keeping the team focused." Jason lowered his head again and squeezed at the soft hands holding his. "I'd give anything to have that guy back now." He looked up at Princess, his gray eyes were warm. "He's lucky to have you."

Princess sucked in her breath, surprised at the turn of this conversation. "Jason, I'd do this for any one of you."

"Prin you're kidding yourself if you say what you feel for him is anything less…" Jason commented.

Princess pulled her hands away from Jason's. "I think you'd better quit while you're ahead." Her eyes darted from left to right, a sudden panic sweeping over her.

"You told me several months ago that you were beginning to have feelings for him," Jason continued, his expression understanding.

"That was several months ago. Things have changed. My feelings are irrelevant now." Princess retorted quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was confess to Jason any more than she already had. She was still trying to sort through her feelings about Mark, her emotions too fresh to share with anyone. Eyes downcast, she clasped her hands together on the table's surface letting Jason know that part of their discussion was over.

Jason gave Princess a side long glance. For several minutes a strained silence had centered itself between them. Knowing when to quit Jason replied quietly, "Alright Prin. I won't push it any further." He reached for both mugs and asked, "Want any more?" Princess declined and with that Jason stood to take their mugs to the kitchen sink. He turned and leaned against the counter, placing his hands behind him. "How long does this usually last? I mean does Mark get any worse before he gets better?"

Grateful for the conversation shift, Princess leaned her elbows on the table. "No. The last time he got over the initial illness, he recovered quickly. It's strange but it's almost as if there's something triggering the response. Reading Valeria's notes lead me to believe that was more than just a drug she gave Mark. Her equations are consistent with more than just a chemical base. I'll have Keye run a cross reference for me first thing in the morning with what I was able make out."

Jason spoke seriously, "Prin, don't take this the wrong way but you may be in over your head with this one. There's still a part of me that believes Mark should be monitored at Center Neptune. As acting commander of G-Force it's my duty to report my findings to Chief Anderson. If you can't separate your feelings for what may be in Mark's best interest, then you're going to have to step aside."

Princess straightened at Jason's authoritative tone and countered, "Remember when we were called 'teenage lab rats'? I believe my actions are justified. If Mark were to stay at Center Neptune for treatment it would be counter-productive. He'd merely languish in that environment. He's got a degree of independence here. Here he can open up, begin to feel trust again. It's my job to see that he overcome this trauma. To return to his rightful place as commander of our unit Jason. I don't want him treated like some science experiment."

"You're relying solely on faith Prin. Do you intend to tell Anderson about Mark's side effects?" Jason questioned with narrowed eyes.

Princess returned the look Jason gave with one of her own, her green eyes glaring. "Do you?"

Jason folded his arms in front of his chest. "No. Not yet anyway. But your father's a smart man Prin. He's the ultimate bullshit detector and he can smell lies a mile away. I still haven't reported Mark's place being torn apart or the fact that we were chased through the city by Spectran operatives. I sent message to Tiny along with the Federation Military Police to keep watch on Mark's place tonight but they report to Anderson. To say he's going to be pissed that I didn't report to him first is an understatement. Keeping Mark's condition quiet is just adding to the list of secrets and its getting longer by the hour." Placing his face to his hands, he rubbed at tired eyes. "I'm supposed to meet with the Chief tomorrow. Personally I feel we could be hindering Mark's recovery but since you feel so strongly about him staying here with you, I'll give you more time." He sighed heavily and raked his hands through his hair, looking up at the ceiling then back towards her. "Prin so help me if this happens again, I'm coming clean to 'The Mustache'," Jason warned; his implication projected toward her father.

Princess pursed her lips and tapped her fingertips on the table's surface. "I understand Jason and it's appreciated. Thanks." He was placing himself in the line of fire, putting aside duty for friendship. As acting commander Jason had given her more than enough leeway.

The tension between them had begun to ease followed by a few more minutes of silence. Deciding to switch gears again, Jason went on, "I've been meaning to ask you…how long is Jill willing for you to stay here? The renovations at her club should be just about completed."

Princess squirmed slightly in her seat. She had deliberately decided not to mention to anyone that she'd been conveniently fired from her job as manager of _Jill's Place_, as well as evicted from her loft apartment. The building was owned by Jill Banks, a friend of Princess' for the past few years. Jill was a business woman and the club wasn't profiting as well as she would have liked with Princess at the helm. It really couldn't have been helped. She had been unable to manage the club to Jill's specifications; her duty got in the way of foreseeing the operation of the business. Jill needed someone full time and when she found someone, the agreement was to lease the apartment over the club as well. Princess had been given the boot. She'd seen it coming; Jill had been kind enough to inform her that she would have to move. But it didn't make it any less painful. Jill was also looking for someone to purchase the small beach house, but decided not to put it on the market just yet. Princess was fortunate that Jill offered her use of the place until she found another apartment to lease, but being unemployed made that a bit difficult. She was staunchly independent and refused to rely on her father or her friends to bail her out.

"Jill said I could stay for as long as I wanted until she was ready to put the place on the market. I liked the solitude out here so much; she agreed to let me stay until the end of summer." Princess answered quickly, hating herself for the lie.

"Oh," Jason responded, satisfied with her answer. He glanced at the kitchen clock above the table. It was nearing midnight. Yawning he stretched his arms above his head and asked, "I guess I don't have to flip a coin to see which one of us sits with 'Fly Boy' for the first few hours huh?"

Princess smiled fleetingly and rose from her seat, rubbing her palms on the front of her shorts. "No. Why don't we divide the night? I'll sit with him for four hours and you the latter half, alright?"

Jason nodded while watching her intently. "Agreed. I'll take the couch" he answered brusquely gesturing with his hand toward the living room. He walked towards Princess. "Listen…are you and I …cool?" He didn't want to create distance between them. They may not be in agreement with how Mark's situation should be handled, but he wanted her to know that he still valued their friendship.

Princess reached out for Jason's hand and pulled him towards her. "Was there ever any doubt? Of course we're alright." She encircled her arms around his waist and hugged him close. Jason returned the embrace, giving Princess a big bear hug and kissed her forehead gently.

After a moment, they pulled apart simultaneously. Princess patted at Jason's chest lightly. "You don't have to sleep on the couch you know. You could always sleep in my bed."

Jason smiled wolfishly and tapped playfully at her nose. "Prin you really need to be careful when you toss an invitation like that around. Someone might get the wrong idea."

Princess made a face at him. "Why you big…," she started and pushed at Jason's chest. "Screw you!"

Jason laughed and stepped around Princess, heading for the living room couch, "See? There you go again! Keep that up and people will talk."

"Don't flatter yourself jerk," she responded humorously and pushed against Jason's back with both of her hands causing him to stumble slightly.

Jason sat on the plush couch and began to remove his shoes. Princess started towards the hallway, in the direction of Mark's room. "Hey Prin," Jason called out and Princess looked over her shoulder. "Remember you're not here alone with Mark alright? Come and get me if you need help."

Princess' smile was genuine. "Thanks Jase," she returned and blew him a small kiss before turning off the light switch on the wall. Jason watched her walk away, that curvaceous backside of hers swaying from side to side in her cut-off shorts. He cocked his head to the right, whistled to himself and grinned devilishly. _Mark you'd better be damned glad that I'm your best friend! _Jason lay back on the couch, crossed his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes…

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Princess stood outside of Mark's bedroom door and discovered a small ray of light beaming from underneath the crack of the door's frame. She stopped short of turning the knob, remembering that she turned off the bedside lamp before leaving the room. Cautiously Princess opened the door and peered inside expecting to find Mark awake. To her surprise he wasn't. Mark was on top of the bed's covers still in his boxers sitting up against the headboard, propped against a few pillows with his hands at his sides, eyes closed; his expression peaceful. The rise and fall of his chest steady. He appeared to be asleep.

She noticed that the closet door was partially open. Apparently Mark had found some of his belongings that she had brought over earlier that afternoon. His things had been in storage while he was hospitalized. Princess had packed several items she felt that Mark would like to have with him during his stay with her. His books, photography equipment, and various CD's were among the throng of things chosen.

Quietly Princess inched closer to the bed in an attempt not to disturb Mark. She knew that sleep didn't come easily to him, it never had. She didn't want to awaken him but wanted to make certain he was alright. She sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress giving away with barely a sigh of pressure and eased herself next to Mark. Princess sat there momentarily watching Mark's relaxed appearance. It had been the first time in days she'd seen him this way. The last time he appeared this comfortable they had awoken in each other's arms. Remembering how she felt when Mark kissed her, Princess placed her fingertips lightly to her lips; the heat rising to her cheeks.

Upon getting closer Princess discovered a small photograph in Mark's lap. She tilted her head slightly, curiosity getting the better of her. The temptation was proving to be too great even for her and she found herself carefully lifting the photo from him. Slowly Princess' eyes darted from the photo back to Mark's resting figure. The first thing she noticed was that the photo was dated; the edges of the picture raveled and curling. The color was faded; dating back several years but the inhabitant in the photo captured her attention. It was the photo of a young woman. A beautiful young woman with soft features; wavy auburn hair upon her shoulders, a creamy complexion, a warm, inviting smile, and vibrant blue eyes.

Princess placed the fingers of her right hand to her lips. Despite the age of the photograph, the resemblance was recognizable. She was looking at Mark's eyes in a feminine face. "Mark's mother," Princess whispered breathlessly. She had never expected to see her this way, surprise evident in her face. In all of her years knowing Mark, she'd never seen a picture of Maria Beckham, nor had he offered to show her.

"What are you doing in here?" Mark asked quietly, cutting into Princess' thoughts; startling her. Her eyes leaping from the photo to the photo's owner; his blue eyes penetrating her almost accusingly.

Princess' eyes widened at being discovered, like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She couldn't find the words to explain that this wasn't what it looked like, even though the evidence was situated between her fingers. Mark reached up and took his mother's photograph from Princess.

"Mark…," Princess began, "I'm sorry. It's just that you looked so peaceful. I saw the picture in your lap…I shouldn't have pried."

Mark watched the play of emotions on Princess' face. From shock at being discovered, to beseeching in her explanation, before finally succumbing to remorse. The offended look he'd given her was quickly replaced with understanding.

Mark reached for Princess' hand and squeezed it tightly. "It's alright. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I didn't expect you back in after you'd left; at least for a while. And then to see you with my mom's picture…" He looked at his mother's photo again before extending his free hand, holding the picture for Princess to see it. "You've never seen a picture of my mother." It was a statement not a question. Mark watched Princess for a response.

Princess studied the picture once more and smiled thoughtfully. "She was very lovely Mark. You favor her; particularly the eyes. Those fathomless blue eyes." Noticing that Mark still held her hand, Princess turned her hand upwards to link her fingers between his.

Princess was almost certain Mark blushed, though only a hint of color stained his cheeks for a moment. He looked at his mother's picture and grimaced before placing it on the bedside table. "Yeah I favor her; but not in the way that matters." His fingers slackened from Princess' grasp and he pulled his hand away. The move left Princess feeling strangely bereft, her fingers tingling from the mild depravity.

"I'm certain your mother wouldn't look at it that way. You've dealt with so much these past few months."

"There's a lot you don't know about Prin. Please don't try to understand me right now. You wouldn't be able to if you tried," Mark replied sadly.

Princess watched him for several moments. She decided to try again, using a different tactic. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly and folded her arms in front of her.

Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I've still got a headache and my stomach feels raw inside but I'll live." He snorted sarcastically. "I'll live." He looked down at the sensor on his left ankle, reminding him of his restrictions. "Some life huh?"

Another minute passed in silence. Princess decided to use the time to get to the bottom of things, knowing she needed to tread lightly. She couldn't afford for Mark to retreat into his self-imposed shell if he felt as if though he were being cornered.

"What made you do it Mark?" Princess asked softly. "Please tell me so that I can understand."

Mark turned to face her directly; a stricken look crossed his features. "I got tired of watching everyone that mattered to me die." His glance cut to the left of center. "It became too much for me, discovering that my father was around all this time and him not being able to acknowledge me. That was the final straw." Mark's anguished glance returned to Princess. "I'd seen cancer ravage my mother's body. I'd seen Matthew's jet explode after being hit by a Spectran missile. And then to witness my father sacrifice his life for this planet, and climb into that shuttle…," Mark trailed off, his eyes fixated with remembered pain. "I should've stopped him. Maybe if I'd told him it would've made a difference."

Princess frowned slightly and pondered, "What do you mean? What could you have told your father that might've made a difference?" She had to push forward; she needed something to go on while his defenses were down.

Mark wiped at the moisture from underneath his eyes and straightened his back against the bed's headboard. He let out a heavy sigh. "Nothing. It doesn't matter any more. I promised to get my life in order right? That's why I'm staying with you." He stared straight ahead, his manner the epitome of all that was serious. The Eagle's stoic mask had once again appeared and Princess could feel the distance growing between them.

She had to learn more before Mark shut down completely. "You mentioned Matthew." Mark flinched before meeting Princess' perceptive eyes with his own. "While you were ill, you mentioned Matthew in regards to your father. Something he told you."

"You're pushing me. You're trying to get me to say something I'm not ready to share yet. Just let it go," Mark replied defensively.

"I'll let it go when you give us more to go on. Mark, we can't help you if you won't tell us what went wrong. My father is going against regulations to see to it that you return to G-Force." Princess' face pleaded with him.

"Your father doesn't give a rat's ass about me! I've been nothing more than a liability to him from the beginning! He's taken everything from me!" Mark snapped and pushed himself off of the bed.

Princess stood up and grabbed at Mark's arm before he reached the other side of the room. "How can you say something like that? My father has gone above and beyond for you. He was your father's best friend."

Mark, in turn, reached for Princess' upper arms and shook her. "Your father is the reason my father took that damned assignment! So that he could be with my mother!" His face was full of contempt.

Princess winced as if though she'd been struck, blinking her eyes several times. "What do you mean by that?" She twisted herself out of Mark's grasp.

"I think you know what I mean. Your father and my mother…together." Mark's blue eyes had glaciered over; his tone was just as cold. "Convenient to send your best friend to the enemy so that you can have his wife for yourself. And my mother was so trusting, believing every word that bastard told her…when all the while he knew that my father was alive and he never even told her. Not while they were together when my father was away. Not even on her death bed."

Princess' face blanched after those hateful remarks. She sank slowly onto the edge of the bed, her eyes searching Mark's face for the whole story. His face was grim, indicating to her not to take it any further. He wasn't ready to share any more and he backed away from her, placing his hands behind his neck, until he came to a stop against the wall. Mark shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the wave of panic to swallow him whole.

The room was immersed in silence for what seemed like an eternity, the only sound heard was the occasional pounding of the ocean's surf beating against the Pacific shore. Princess' breath quickened and she sniffed while staring at the ceiling, her eyes feigning interest in the plain white surface hovering above her. She didn't want to believe that her father could've done what Mark had just mentioned. Yet she had to admit there was so much about her father that even she didn't know. William Anderson's life had been cloaked in secrecy. Lasting relationships with the opposite sex had always seemed to elude him. Princess had chalked that up to his vast responsibilities being their mentor and head of Galaxy Security. She did remember him telling her that he'd made the mistake of falling in love once, but that circumstances made it impossible for him to love the woman the way she deserved. _Strange that he called it 'a mistake,' _Princess wondered. Mark's parents and her father had been friends for years even before the Beckham's had children. When Ken Beckham's plane had been reported missing off of the Atlantic Coast, it was her father who picked up the pieces of Maria Beckham's life along with the lives of her young sons.

Princess sucked in her breath sharply and her eyes made immediate contact with Mark's. His face conveyed a wealth of pain and resentment; his brow furrowed, his mouth twisted with repugnance. Unfortunately, an affair was possible. The circumstances, for lack of a better word, convenient. Like an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, some of the pieces could be forced to fit…

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

_Again I apologize for not updating as frequently as I should. Those of you who know me are aware that my schedule isn't as typical as the next person's. I hope for that to change one day, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. As for this chapter, it is a bit lengthy-decided to provide some insight into my "Battle AU" by adding a little bit of history to the mix. I also added a bit of citrus as a long overdue gift to my good friend, MistyGirl1, who has encouraged me, nudged me, and patiently waited for me to get this story moving. So I dedicate this chapter to her. Thanks GF! I'd also like to thank WhiteSwan, GoldAngel2, and transmutejun for looking at a portion of this chapter over so many moons ago-you ladies are wonderful! And thanks to those of you who asked about it-that means a lot. The story continues…_

Chief Anderson's eyelids fluttered open upon feeling the warmth of the morning sun's rays seep onto his stubbled face. The arrival of a new day announcing itself by bleeding its light between the blinds covering the large windows in the semi-darkened room. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, arching his spine off of what was a very uncomfortable surface. The small but lumpy protrusions he felt embedded against his back reminding him that he didn't spend the night in his bed at home. As he shifted his temples began to throb; this also reminding him of why he didn't spend the night in his bed at home. Mumbling something about 'scotch' underneath his breath, Anderson grimaced at his discomfort as his eyes tried to adjust to familiar surroundings. He eased himself up slowly as he took in the confined space, the dark panels on the walls, the large desk in the center of the room; all of it through blurred eyes as the Galaxy Security Chief suddenly remembered he'd once again fallen asleep on his office couch inside of the IFPP Building. He groaned inwardly as he positioned himself into a sitting position, cupping his hands over his weary face before dropping his elbows onto his knees. He began contemplating what happened several hours before…

_Anderson had every intention of going home the previous evening after having spent most of the day in conference with the Federation Board over Mark Beckham's fate. Comprised of 12 members, 7 men, Anderson included, and 5 women, it was the Federation Board that called into question the majority of Anderson's decisions regarding the utilization of G-Force, whether cities were under attack or even civilian assignments. Many on the panel felt that Mark should be relieved from his position permanently as Commander of G-Force, expressing that placing the young man on suspension was simply delaying the inevitable. Despite Mark's contributions over the past few years his recent behavior and abject failure to comply within the regulations of the IFPP demanded immediate expulsion. One male senior member remarked, "He not only compromised his identity but the identity of his team mates! Zoltar won't rest until he finds him, particularly after his Dooms Day plans were sabotaged by his father! We can't take a chance in investing any more time in this young man while he deals with the repercussions of his actions!" Words of support from the other members were spoken loudly, many nodding their head in agreement with the older_ _man. _

_Anderson stood up from his seat slamming his fist against the surface of the large conference table and returned angrily; his voice rising above the noise, "That young man's father gave his life for not only the lot of you but for this planet!" The level of noise dissipated after that statement and Anderson pressed on. "We deliberately kept Ken Beckham's identity a secret for the purpose of carrying out that mission and he succeeded! His son is now dealing with the repercussions of our actions! Beckham's son has shown nothing but loyalty to the Federation's cause! What Mark needs now is support! He doesn't deserve to be cast aside because of his mistakes! He's in treatment now and we expect a full recovery!"_

"_How can you be so sure of that?" one female member asked. "It's my understanding that Mark was given an alien derivative by a Spectran operative, a former researcher for the ISO. That drug was administered at a time when he was already using God knows what else. Can you honestly tell us that you and your medical team are aware of the derivative's effects or how long it could take for him to recover? If he ever recovers at all?" The woman then stood up from her seat. "G-Force needs someone at the helm to lead their team! What they don't need is some depressed, recovering drug addict!" _

_Another board member spoke but with a different agenda. "We're all upset at the damage this young man has caused to himself and to the Federation's reputation. But I am in agreement with Anderson. We can't simply toss the young man out of our jurisdiction. Mark is still a valuable commodity. The strength and power he exudes with the cerebonic enhancements are too remarkable to ignore. I propose that we terminate his identity given the circumstances and produce a new one for him. No longer will Mark serve as Commander of G-Force but relocated to another division within the Intergalactic Alliance."_

_This made Anderson even angrier as memories of Mark's father began to surface. "You intend to wipe Mark out as conveniently as an eraser over a chalkboard? As if though he never existed? He was trained to lead G-Force! Whom do you propose to take his place? And where in the hell would you send him? You could quite possibly be leading him open to a Spectran hit if sent any where else!"_

_The senior member again responded openly. "I propose that Officer Jason Devereaux be promoted as commanding officer."_

_The expletives muttered from Anderson caused some of the board members visible embarrassment, the shades of red on their faces a positive indicator to anyone believing otherwise. _

"_G-2 is only acting as commanding officer at the moment," Anderson returned indignantly. "He's an outstanding force to be reckoned with and we are fortunate to have him on our side, but he hasn't exhibited the leadership capabilities which I believe are necessary to head G-Force. If all of you would just…"_

"_Then teach him!" the senior member shot back. "The proposal is on the table Anderson! We have given you and that young man all we are willing give! Do…your…job!" he enunciated looking at the Galaxy Security Chief with thunderous eyes. The older man continued, "Should Mark's treatment prove successful then he should be transferred to our sister planet Riga. With his outstanding fighter pilot abilities he can be placed within the realm of the Rigan Fighter Squadron."_

_Anderson looked around the room as the majority nodded in favor of the senior board member's proposal. Mark would be placed in the same unit his father headed. His very existence wiped clean and given the chance to start over-if the young man could ever be convinced of that. The Galaxy Security Chief felt his presence in the meeting was unnecessary; he was simply there by default._

_The vote had been placed and unanimously decided in favor of Mark's transfer by the 10 members in attendance. The deciding vote was to be made by President Elizabeth Kane, head of the Intergalactic Alliance. Fortunately she was at a summit meeting on the East Coast but would be returning within the next few days. Liz Kane was an old colleague and friend of his known for her fairness in judgments of this caliber. With little time on his side Anderson began to wonder if it were possible to devise a presentation that might persuade her to decide in favor of Mark being reinstated. It was possible to influence President Kane but she relied on proof rather than blind theory. He needed documentation, something to support his belief in Mark's recovery. Trouble was he had nothing to offer, nothing to place at her feet. He'd only received a vague report from Princess regarding Mark's recovery while staying with her and Jason was providing even less information. _

_Anderson lowered his head as the board members adjourned and filed out of the conference room. Upon realizing he had nothing to sustain Mark's position as head of the team the probability of his not returning to lead G-Force became very real. The team dynamic would suffer a major loss; the remaining G-Force members devastated to learn that their commander would not be returning to lead them. The Galaxy Security Chief began to question his role in the downfall of that troubled young man. _

_Anderson withdrew to his office for the remainder of the afternoon after that. He should have known better than to attempt to go up against the senior board members of the Federation. He had an antagonistic relationship with those headstrong, unyielding pains in the ass for almost 10 years. Anderson himself was beginning to feel like the fall guy; a mere public relations ploy whenever a photo-op required a hand shake 'for the good of the Federation.' Mark never stood a chance. Once a mistake was made in the eyes of those men and women they could make you virtually disappear without a trace; relocating an agent without so much as a word explained to their families._

_The same thing had happened to Ken Beckham 18 years ago. His cover was that of commercial airline pilot but he'd been an agent for the Intergalactic Federation of Peaceful Planets soon after his graduation from the Space Academy. His identity was discovered during what was to be a routine transference of information, an exchange of significant documents from one operative to the next. One of the younger operatives was captured by a Spectran agent and tortured for the names of several key Federation operatives. Among those named was Ken Beckham. In order to halt further investigation into his background and possibly spare the lives of his family, the older Beckham 'died' seemingly in a plane crash he'd been the pilot of off of the Eastern Coast. Colonel Adam Cronus was a character that had been created by the Federation to throw the Spectrans off of Beckham's past. Anderson had no knowledge of this until after he'd been promoted from the ISO's Chief Researching Analyst to Galaxy Security Chief._

_To Anderson's surprise, Beckham literally appeared at his doorstep after having been presumed dead for seven years. Anderson had been sworn to secrecy, informed by the Federation should he disclose Beckham's identity that he would be severely punished under the laws of the Intergalactic Alliance. The timing couldn't have been worse. He and Maria Beckham, Ken's widow, were making plans for a future. The two of them having reignited the love they once shared while students at the ISO Academy. Maria was never informed of her husband's return even under the guise as Colonel Cronus and he had never contacted her. As Cronus, Ken had chosen to live his life as the confirmed bachelor. He even seemed to thrive on it; women came and went into his life as if through a revolving door._

_When confronted by Anderson to inform his wife at the very least, Ken stood firm with the Federation's decision. "You know I can't come forward Bill. There's the penalty of imprisonment for both of us if I do. This mission is too complex and as much as I care for Maria, she's been doing alright without me. You've seen to it that she and the boys had everything that they needed over the years. Besides from what I've heard, you've taken my place as man of the house. We both know you always wanted that." Ken's words were spoken with a hint of malice, not regret and their once close friendship languished after that. Maybe if Ken had shown some sense of remorse, Anderson might've told Maria everything. But he never did and the guilt emanated from the lie caused him to alienate himself from her and her sons. Only until Maria had been diagnosed with cancer, did Anderson return claiming his love for her but the disease claimed her quickly. She died several months after being diagnosed never knowing that Ken was alive. Her last request to Anderson was for him to take care of her sons; referring to them as 'our boys,' her belief that Anderson was more of a father to Mark and Matthew than Ken ever was. It was a promise he tried to_ _make good on but Ken, as Cronus, constantly interfered; influencing Mark and Matthew whenever the opportunity was available. _

_Anderson had shrugged off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, rolled up his shirt sleeves and went straight to the small mini-bar in his office; a little something left behind by his predecessor. Though he rarely used it, he'd felt the need for a glass of scotch after the day he'd just had. He raised the half-filled glass to the light, swirled the amber colored beverage before him and took a big gulp, allowing the liquid to burn his throat as he closed his eyes tightly at the sensation of it. "Exactly what I needed after this bitch of a day!" he mumbled before pouring himself another healthy glass and draining its contents, followed by another. He decided to plop onto his couch for a small reprieve from the day's events but exhaustion, both physically and mentally eventually claimed him. His body had given into its demands and he'd fallen into a peaceful slumber that evening, assisted by some damned good scotch… _

Anderson inched himself off of his couch as he felt around for his eyeglasses. Discovering his glasses on the floor near his feet, he retrieved them, fingered the frames into his shirt pocket and stood up quickly. The move almost cost him his balance, however, but he rebounded straightening himself to his full height. That move caused him to wince, the discomfort after spending the night on the couch still evident in his taut muscular frame as he moved his neck from side to side. In an attempt to regain his equilibrium, Anderson shuffled to his bathroom cursing himself for giving into the effects of alcohol even if it was only two drinks. _Wait a sec…it was three drinks wasn't it? Shit I lost count after two!_

He stumbled as the light came on automatically at his entrance and groaned aloud. He took in his appearance in the bathroom mirror, the reflection cast showing his tousled dark hair, red rimmed eyes, and cheeks shadowed with stubble. Anderson shook his head after shrugging out of his dress shirt and decided not to berate himself too harshly particularly after his meeting with the Federation Board. If he got any sleep at all then he sure as hell deserved it. Sleep had been eluding him since Mark had gone missing and then returned to them barely alive. Remembering his promise to Maria gave him a sense of purpose. He suddenly remembered his meeting with Jason for later this morning. The Condor hadn't provided him with anything other than a nod and some futile paperwork of old mission reports; nothing about Mark. He couldn't help but feel as if though he were being played; suspecting that Princess was the source for withholding any updates on Mark's condition and that she'd convinced Jason to go along with it. The more he thought about it, he was even more convinced that something was being kept from him He made a mental note to check in with the security division tracking Mark's moves via the sensor worn on his ankle. Anderson turned on the sink's faucet and splashed a handful of cold water onto his face.

He'd just reached for a nearby face towel when he heard the shrill ring of his desk phone. The sound of it was magnified ten times secondary to his mild hangover. He cursed again as he placed his hands over his ears, the sound echoing throughout his office like that of a monstrous school bell. Hurrying towards it Anderson pushed the button near the phone's flashing blue light, a signal that the call was coming from the Federation's Military Police. He placed the call in conference mode as he stood over the desk drying his face.

"Chief Anderson here," he responded curtly. "Go ahead." He began searching through his desk drawers for some much needed aspirin.

"Good morning, sir. This is Sergeant Riley. Just wanted to inform you that Commander Beckham's place has been monitored all night. We've secured his quarters and are returning to the base," the officer replied in an efficient tone.

"What in the hell are you talking about Riley? I never sent word to you to monitor Commander Beckham's home." Anderson eyed the phone as if he hadn't heard correctly. He threw the towel onto his desk after discovering a bottle of aspirin in the last drawer he'd chosen to search.

"Sir we were informed that Commander Beckham's place had been vandalized by Spectran operatives. We were sent there to monitor and report any suspicious activity should they return. Officer Jack Harper accompanied us."

_What in the hell…? What's been going on? What was Tiny doing overseeing the assignment? _Anderson seethed inwardly upon realizing the extent at which the team would go to help their suspended Commander. His knuckles turned white as he ripped the plastic cap off of the aspirin bottle. "On whose authority were you sent to Beckham's home?" he demanded angrily. _As if I didn't already know, but I need to hear him say it!_

"Er…um…Officer Jason Devereaux sir," the sergeant croaked sensing trouble from Anderson's tone. "Sir we were under the impression that you'd been informed and although Devereaux gave the order that it was under your command."

Anderson nodded his head after that confirmation and threw the two pills towards the back of his throat, swallowing them without water. "Thank you Riley," he responded tightly. "I can handle things from here." He pushed the phone's conference button ending the call and tossed the aspirin bottle aside not caring where it landed.

His steps were heavy as he walked away from his desk, one hand to his hip as the other covered his eyes coming to a standstill in the center of his office. _That idiot! He activated the Federation MP's without even consulting me and sent them to Mark's airstrip after it had been broken into by Spectran agents! This is fucking great! Those hounds on the Federation Board are going to love this! And Jason just threw them another bone! Perfect! Just perfect!_

Anderson blew heatedly from between pursed lips as he contemplated the morning's events. The day was just getting started and he had a mountain of trouble to tackle before 7 A.M. Folding his arms before his broad chest he cut a glance toward his mini-bar, his thoughts of that half empty flask of scotch.

"I should've finished that off last night," he murmured regretfully as he padded back toward his bathroom. He needed to get dressed.

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Princess continued to drink in the oceanside's panoramic view as the frothy waves of water curled against the beach's edge, the foam lapping at her toes as she sat on the sand hugging her knees in front of her chest. The sun had risen only moments before. She'd seen the first shafts of light creep into her bedroom and had decided to take advantage of some quiet time while it was still possible by escaping to the beach to meditate. She'd been unable to sleep anyway, unable to think of anything else except what Mark had told her. That her father and his mother were lovers when Mark was a child; and that Anderson knew of Ken Beckham's existence as Colonel Cronus during that time.

She had hoped that by revealing the source of his pain would've provided Mark with some sense of relief. But his admission only seemed to fuel more anguish from him. When approached Princess placed her hands to his face just to comfort him; she never questioned his admission. His tortured blue eyes had softened at her touch; she'd seen the pain dissipate momentarily and he seemed extremely grateful for the contact. He lifted his own trembling hands to cover hers and closed his eyes as if to savor her presence. He started to speak, but stopped himself; his features hardening before her. The change in him was startling and it had hurt to witness it being so close to him. He apologized for even telling her of Anderson's relationship with his mother, almost as if by confiding in her he had weakened; coming up short in front of her. He immediately ushered Princess out of his room and said that he couldn't say anymore. "I need time to sort things out," he mumbled before closing the door in her face. It was as if self reliance was the only way Mark knew of to solve his problems. It bothered her that he didn't feel as if though he could rely on her particularly when he truly needed the support.

After that Princess had spent the majority of her night awake; her thoughts consumed not only of Mark but of her father. Anderson had always been an enigma of sorts to her. He was a wonderful and loving man in private; providing her and Keye with the type of security and guidance they needed growing up. He had adopted them and raised them as his own; loving them as much as any biological father would. But as Galaxy Security Chief he was abrupt, aloof, and very demanding of those who served for the Federation. He rarely tolerated mistakes and would verbalize his disapproval tenfold to those who did. He was especially hard on the team because he had reason be. Anderson established G-Force; he designed their cerebonic implants and had chosen the recipients. His reputation relied upon the accomplishments of the team. Princess often wondered given all of her father's responsibilities had there been any one fortunate enough to crack that tough exterior of his. Someone who could love him despite his magnanimous ability to keep people at arms length. As of last night Mark provided her with a possible answer.

Rather than dwell on it lying in bed any longer, Princess had chosen to rise with the sun. Donned only in her light night shirt, she quietly left the house so she wouldn't disturb Jason, still deep in sleep lying on the small couch in the front room. Mark was still in his bedroom. She walked slowly toward the ocean and sank onto the soft sand preparing herself for transcendental meditation. It was a technique she'd learned during her travels to India a few years ago; a way to make use of the mind's natural tendency to calm down and to experience its conscious state in restful alertness. Taking a cue from Mark, she also needed time to sort things out, the beach at sunrise providing the perfect environment. She didn't realize that someone had been watching her from the moment she'd left the house.

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_She probably regrets the very day she brought me here, _Mark thought as he continued to watch Princess through intense blue eyes. After his admission of Anderson's affair with his mother who could blame Princess for thinking otherwise. Remembering the numbed shock look on her face filled him with an instant regret. He appreciated that she didn't question what he had confided in her. Princess had come to him offering comfort the way she did best, simply by reaching out to him. And he rewarded her by shutting her out; certain that he'd hurt her feelings again.

That familiar panic began to course its way through Mark once more; threatening to smother him alive while he was alone in his bedroom after Princess had left. Rather than to call for help as he had before he rushed to the bathroom across the hall. Feeling the line of fire course down his spine Mark shed his clothes quickly, turning on the shower full blast to extinguish the heat that had begun to engulf his body. He let the cold water douse his burning skin, took several deep breaths as if he had just resurfaced from underneath a fathom of water, and focused on anything other than his problems. This did the trick apparently and after spending an enormous amount of time in the shower, he recovered and returned to his bedroom.

He hadn't been able to sleep either during the night, and once he saw daybreak, opted to take an early morning walk on the beach. Mark pulled on a pair of cut offs and was just about to open the door when he heard the door adjacent his room creak open and close. He waited a moment before opening his own door a bit, and observed Princess slipping cautiously into the kitchen, leaving via the patio's sliding door. Mark followed and walked quietly on bare feet to the kitchen window to watch. He'd been there for as long as Princess remained outside.

Mark's thoughts of Princess were interrupted by the faint sound of a nearby communicator coming from the small living room behind him. He heard Jason grumble, "What the hell…?" before rolling off of the couch and landing in a disheveled heap onto the hardwood floor. Groggily Jason lifted his left wrist toward his mouth and responded, "G-2 here. Go ahead."

"_I want you in my office as soon as possible Condor. You've got a lot of explaining to do,"_ Chief Anderson returned acidly.

_Shit! I forgot to call off the MP's! Prin was supposed to get me up hours ago! _"Chief…I think I know…what this is about," Jason spoke brokenly as he pulled himself up from the floor to stand. He was slightly disoriented after spending the night on the tiny couch, his muscles still aching from the experience.

"_Good; then you won't have to provide me with some bullshit excuse as to why I wasn't informed that Mark's place had been vandalized by Spectran agents. Not to mention your sending of the Federation MP's to stand guard with Tiny overseeing the assignment. Your ass is on shaky ground. The next time I blink, I'd better see you in my office. As for the rest of the team I expect them to be here at the IFPP building in an hour."_ The signal ended unexpectedly before Jason had time to answer.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Jason hurriedly tucked his shirt into his pants while he stepped into his shoes, stomping into them while adjusting his wrinkled clothes. "Wait until I get my hands on Prin! I asked her to wake me up hours ago and she let me sleep! Now the Chief is ready to put my nuts in a sling!" He turned to find Mark peering out of the kitchen window. In a rough edged voice he continued, "Didn't expect to find you awake until the afternoon. What are you looking at?" Jason looked over Mark's shoulder as he buttoned his shirt, his grey eyes falling on the young woman sitting on the sand.

Jason smirked and reached above Mark's head to the right, opened the cupboard and grabbed a glass. "It figures. You plan on adding 'stalker' or 'pervert' to your resume'?" He walked backward in the direction of the bathroom while Mark cut an annoying glance over his shoulder. With the shutting of the bathroom door he returned his focus again to Princess, still sitting motionless on the beach. It took a while before he realized she was meditating, a practice of hers that left him a little perplexed. She seemed to benefit from it, he just wasn't quite sure how. Meditating never made any problem go away.

Mark heard the splash of water and the distinct sound of a throat being gargled before Jason reappeared in the kitchen, shrugging into his jacket. He began to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. "Damn! Can't a guy get a pop-tart first thing in the morning?" He pointed to the stove a few feet away from him. "Tell Princess that white rectangular thing in the middle of the floor that spews fire out of it when it's turned on is called a 'stove'. Remind her that people use it to cook food on. Or in her case, torch the hell out of it." Finding nothing to his satisfaction, Jason slammed the last cupboard shut.

He headed for the front door. "As you may have already guessed, Anderson's on the warpath this morning. I inadvertently forgot to tell him of your place being vandalized by those Spectrans. He wants the rest of you guys at the IFPP building in an hour. I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for the verbal ass-kicking coming my way. Got any suggestions on how to handle him before I set foot into his office?"

Seeing that Princess had risen and began to walk back towards the house, Mark turned and leaned against the edge of the kitchen's counter near the sink. "How good are you at groveling?" he countered seriously. Anderson didn't like to be kept out of the loop, particularly when it was occurring right underneath his nose.

"Fuck!" Jason fumed and left the room, hurrying toward his car. He'd just roared out of the drive as Princess entered the house.

Surprised to find Mark awake, Princess smiled as she slid the door shut behind her. "Hi," she greeted him warmly, pulling her hair up before allowing it to fall behind her and shaking the dark mass about. She then reached the sink and turned on the faucet to wash her hands. "I take it Jase is off to see the Chief?"

Mark took in Princess' morning appearance. Her dark hair was gloriously mussed and wild about her shoulders, her green eyes remarkably bright, and her shapely legs and feet were sprinkled with sand. She was wearing a cotton white night shirt that barely brushed her thighs and given the outline of her body underneath the material, was wearing nothing underneath except a pair of panties. Mark felt the muscles in his stomach contract; the stirrings of arousal in his groin. He merely nodded and turned away from her before he embarrassed himself, suddenly remembering he was only wearing a pair of cut offs. Needing to move, he reached for a pair of glasses from the shelf.

"Yeah, Anderson just buzzed. Apparently he just found out about what happened at my place yesterday. He expects us at the IFPP in an hour." Mark swept a vague glance over Princess, still trying to ignore how desirable she looked this morning. He then walked around her, set the glasses on the kitchen's island counter, and headed for the fridge. "Meditating, huh?" he asked as he rummaged through the fridge and discovered the orange juice toward the back.

Princess eyed Mark as he poured, first for her before handing her a glassful, then for himself. She watched as he drank the contents from his glass in one swallow. His movements seemed purposeful, as if though he needed to keep some distance between them. She sensed it was a residual effect of last night; after confessing his secret to her. Needing to reassure Mark that he could trust her, Princess decided to tread lightly and keep the conversation light.

"It serves its purpose," she spoke before taking a sip. "It allows me to focus and gain some insight. I come away with a whole new perspective." She cut a sideways glance at Mark. "Well most of the time."

Mark poured himself a second glass of juice. "I kind of figured you were thinking about me sitting out there. I've all but been the guest from hell. Sorry for causing you so much trouble Prin." He looked down into the half-filled glass and put it aside, placing his palms flat on the island's center. "You know…maybe I should return to Center Neptune. Seems like I'm more trouble to everyone being out of that oversized fish bowl than in it."

"We've all been in trouble one way or another. This...well, this was bigger than we realized and far more complex." Princess put aside her unfinished juice glass and reached for him, placing one hand over his. "But it didn't have to come to this. We could have seen you through it," she ended somberly.

"The thing that gets me is that everyone seems to think that I should just get over it. 'Your father died a hero' is all that I get from the handful of people who actually knew him. I just couldn't figure out why a man who supposedly loved his wife and kids, decided to cast them aside like a pair of old shoes. Even if his duty played a role, I'd like to think that my mother would've stood by him…and that Matt and I would've understood." Mark then closed his eyes as he began to rock on the base of his hands, Princess remaining by his side. "My father would've been more of a hero to me had he chosen to tell us. He never even gave us a chance. And as for Anderson…," he added, his head moving slightly from side to side, "I don't think I can ever forgive him for it."

It was an uncomfortable admission to hear, but Princess had to allow Mark to say how he felt. She did plan to talk with her father about it but decided against telling Mark.

The ticking of the kitchen clock was the only sound heard against the back drop of the morning ocean's surf. Mark's face was unreadable as he looked ahead, his eyes hollow. Princess massaged at his hand beneath hers as they stood that way in the kitchen for several minutes, emotional support being the only thing she could offer him at the moment. Both of them weighing the silence of an uncertain future ahead.

After a while Mark turned to look at her and placed his free hand over hers. "Prin…" His tone was gentle but felt strangely intimate. "I never really… thanked you for all that you've done for me. You've made what I've been dealing with …tolerable." His dark blue eyes searched hers. "I'm forever in your debt. I doubt that I could've gotten through this without you."

"You don't have to thank me. And you don't have to leave either. I want you to stay," Princess responded honestly. "I'll always be your friend Mark."

Mark nodded; it wasn't what he wanted to hear. Although he knew he should be accepting of it, it bothered him. He then laced his fingers between hers on the table.

"Princess there was a time…before all of this happened…I began to feel that…we were beginning to mean more to each other," his tone was still gentle but had the texture of sandpaper to it. Gravely and sensuous. "More than …just friends."

So there it was. The waiting for Mark to bring it up first had finally come and a collective sigh of relief escaped Princess' lips. If he were ready to talk about their vague past relationship, so was she. "I remember," she spoke quietly. "We were getting close. Very close several months ago."

Mark pressed on, satisfied she wasn't averse to the direction the conversation was going in. His fingers tightened their grip, holding her hand captive. "I find myself wondering sometimes…if things could've been different." He looked at their intertwined hands and gave hers another squeeze. "Wondering if I hadn't distanced myself…from you…would we have had a chance of making it work?"

Princess would've moved mountains to hear those words from Mark months ago. Before all the pain and misunderstandings chiseled a barrier between them. So much had happened since then. And the Mark before her now wasn't the same person he was before.

"I honestly don't know. Somehow we each went in different directions. Things happened that interfered with our relationship. Jason needed support after Luci died and you were caught up in finding the truth about your father. We have nothing to support 'what could have been' Mark. We talked and flirted and talked mostly but that's all it was, right?"

Mark lowered his head after that and Princess searched for a reaction, her eyes moving over his slumped shoulders. "You never gave me any indication you wanted more from me, although…I always hoped that you wanted more." She remembered how he'd retreat from them…from her. Hours would turn into days and days into weeks without a word from him. She always waited and he'd never show. At least when she wanted him to. Adding insult to injury, Mark turned to other women to ease his loneliness. She turned to Jason for companionship.

Mark breathed deeply and stood straight, his hands still linked with Princess'. "You never told me that was what you wanted from me," he almost choked on the accusation. "You were so devoted to Jason at that time that I thought… I couldn't help but feel that something was just beginning to take off between us and that you decided you didn't want it with me." He also remembered seeing Princess with his best friend. The hand holding, the shared secretive looks, the brief kisses of affection; all of which he desired to share with her. The jealousy he'd felt had turned to resentment. Rather than watch what he thought was an intimate relationship growing between Princess and Jason; Mark had chosen to make himself scarce. He shook his head as his eyes roamed from the top of Princess' dark head to her eyes, consumed with painful memories. "I swear I never meant for things to turn out the way it did," Mark spoke with soft intensity.

Suddenly feeling self conscious, Princess eased her hand out of Mark's and folded her arms in front of her. For the first time that morning she realized she had little on other than a nightshirt. Her skin was tingling simply by being near him. Princess then found herself staring at Mark's naked chest. He was leaner than before but still sleek and sinewy. All satin smooth and solid muscle. Her eyes traveled from his chest, past his washboard lean stomach, to the line of dark hair descending from his abdomen disappearing beneath the denim cutoffs. She had already seen him in the buff but this time was different. The young man standing before her now was the very picture of blatant masculinity. She blinked a few times and backed away as her mind began to race with thoughts of sliding her hands beneath his waistband. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she whispered and started to walk past him.

Mark's first reaction was instinctual. He wanted to make the pain disappear; to make the hurt go away. "Wait," he murmured softly. He stopped Princess from passing and pulled her slowly towards him. Tenderly Mark cupped her face between his firm hands and began to lower his mouth to her trembling lips, his eyes never leaving hers. The first contact was so soft and so fleeting that Princess barely believed he did it. An experimental brush of his mouth against hers, the tip of his tongue grazing her bottom lip in a gentle caress. Mark suddenly alternated his movements, lazily sipping and suckling at the taste of Princess from her top lip to her tongue; savoring that honey and peaches sweetness he'd remembered from their previous encounter.

Mark had only meant for the kiss to be brief, just to comfort her. But once he touched her it turned into something so much more. The yearning he'd felt for Princess overcame him as he closed his eyes and his tongue began to plunder the warm wetness of her mouth. His hands eased to her soft throat as he deepened the kiss, stroking the exposed skin above the lace trim of her nightshirt.

Princess felt herself free falling from the pleasure of Mark's touch. Her arms, of their own volition, tentatively encircled Mark's shoulders as she gave in to the longing to feel him close. Her body moved toward his as is though she'd been waiting for the feel of his hands on her all along. Her tongue fenced with Mark's as the kiss became hungrier; long, slow, and voraciously greedy. Both of them moaning with want for the other.

Mark's hands had migrated from Princess' throat to her breasts, cupping their weight in his palms. Princess tore her mouth from Mark's upon feeling his thumbs massage their peaks into rigidness; the nightshirt a flimsy barrier from his seeking hands. Her neck curled back, catching her breath in her throat at the sensation of his caressing fingers and Mark took advantage; gliding his open mouth against Princess' throat, his tongue feathering her skin as her arms tightened around his shoulders. She heard him say her name over and over again in that sensuous sandpaper-edged voice of his; as if weaving some magic spell around her.

Mark didn't expect to illicit this sort of response from Princess but he welcomed it. This was how he wanted to touch her from the moment she'd grown from girl to woman. She was as he imagined her to be; soft, silken, and giving. His body was tied in knots; his need for her bordering on incendiary. When Princess arched her body against him, his hands skimmed fluidly from her breasts to caress her thighs. The move allowed him access to slide his hands underneath her thin nightshirt. He cupped the roundness of her bottom to pull her fully against him to feel his arousal, hard and demanding between them. Princess, her fingers now clutching fistfuls of auburn hair, writhed against Mark, the friction so explicit that he sought her mouth to keep from shouting out loud.

Mark managed to maneuver them toward the fridge, needing something to support them as he pressed his body into hers; wanting Princess to understand the sexual havoc she was putting him through as he began to move his hips rhythmically against hers. One hand began to browse from the silken skin of her bare back towards her abdomen, tracing the waistband of Princess' bikini panties before dipping his palm beneath the silk material. He began a tantalizing slide toward her center. His palm nestled upon the lush sable curls situated at the junction of her thighs, as his fingers sought the secrets within the soft folds. Princess' body jerked at the unfamiliar contact and a small cry burst from her as she struggled against Mark's seeking hands, pushing at his chest with her fists. Images of Valeria and numerous other women she'd seen him leaving _Jill's Place _with taunted her. Who's to say Mark wouldn't categorize their relationship any differently?

Mark tore his mouth and hands away to look at Princess as he fought to catch his breath. _Is Princess a virgin? _He asked himself as his eyes sought hers for confirmation. Staring back at him now were a set of deep, incandescent sea green pools-lovely and trusting with a certain amount of innocence and fear in their depths. For several moments all he could do was drown in them before he grasped her shoulders and leaned his forehead against hers. He regretfully eased away from her. Mark did what he had to do.

Princess was grateful for the reprieve. She wasn't as ready as she thought. As much as she cared for Mark, he never said the one thing that would've made all the difference. Her body was still throbbing in the aftermath of what occurred between them and she fought to regain her composure. She adjusted her nightshirt and mumbled weakly, "Thank you," as Mark walked around the kitchen's island. They both needed the distance

"Why didn't you tell me that you've never been with anyone before?" Mark asked with an edge to his voice. He was fighting that rising need to be satisfied, his body taut from being denied.

Princess rubbed at her arms, trying to retain some of the warmth generated between them. "Does it matter?" she asked, determined not to let him see how embarrassed she was by his probing.

"To me it does," he answered through gritted teeth. "Maybe I would've held back. Hell… maybe I wouldn't have started anything at all. But you got caught up in it just like I did. I've just…never been with someone who never did." Mark told himself he could've pushed Princess if he wanted to, made her succumb to the heady pleasure of sex if he chose. It's not like he hasn't done so before; each time with a handful of forgettable women. But he cared too damned much about Princess to treat her that way. He hated being taunted with something he couldn't have.

"Sorry if you think I'm a tease. Some old, unresolved feelings were expressed I'm sure and I can admit getting more than carried away. But it's over Mark. I won't be used as a means for you to escape from reality while you're here with me," Princess spoke hoarsely. She wanted him to deny it; to say that he still cared. _Please give me something other than this moment to show me that I matter to you. Not just because I couldn't go through with it._

Mark remained still as he watched her. He wanted so much more and had nothing to give her. He was now dealing with the consequences of his past mistakes, and had inadvertently involved her. To admit feeling anything other than friendship would be disastrous for them both. Love wasn't a word he expressed freely any more; not after losing those who were closest to him.

Mark tapped at his left thigh with his hand, the limb from which he wore the sensor detecting his movements. This served as a reminder. He didn't deserve her. Pretending indifference, Mark merely shrugged, "You're right. What's done is done. There can never be anything between us. I promise not to lay a hand on you ever again." _Why did that sound like a lie?_

Princess interpreted Mark's words as astonishingly cool and nonchalant. He seemed so matter of fact about it; as if being with her would've been no different than his other conquests. She was so hurt and angered at his response that she wanted to scream and probably would've if it weren't for her communicator's priority alert signal going off.

She raised her left wrist and spoke thickly, "G-3 here."

It was her father, Chief Anderson. _"There have been some new developments that I've recently been made aware of. I want you and G-1 in this office immediately." _The command had been curt, the sign off just as abrupt.

It didn't sound good.

Their eyes met and held.

Neither spoke. Neither had to.

They needed to leave.

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_CHAPTER 10_

_**First please allow me to apologize for an extremely long delay between chapters. Those of you who know me; also know of my health issues. I am happy and grateful to report that I'm in remission and recovering every day. For those of you who kept in touch I humbly thank you. It's my hope to finish what I've started. Having written that, "Intervention" continues. MistyGirl1-I am forever in your debt. GoldAngel, Jen23, and WhiteSwan-Thanks so much.**_

_**The story continues…**_

Chief Anderson's thunderous tirade had finally begun to wane; the Condor having survived, or so he believed, the worst of the fallout. For twenty minutes, acting Commander of G-Force Jason Devereaux, sat motionless as Anderson ripped into him like an angry pit bull. The older man had the psychological advantage from the start and had been prepared for interrogation the moment Jason had set foot into his office. His handling of Mark's situation had been called _'irresponsible and immature'. _His stature as an officer reduced to that of a little boy; the constant berating achingly similar to the feel of getting his dick caught between his pants zipper as an eight year old; once Anderson sank his teeth into you there was no letting go. Feeling very much like the kid he'd been called; Jason folded his arms in front of his chest, muttered an inexplicable word, and silently heaved in frustration at his own stupidity.

An irate Galaxy Security Chief spewed his list of recent discoveries as Jason's eyes averted from left to right, in an attempt to avoid Anderson's incriminating finger pointing directly into his face. In a voice laced with fury, Anderson scathingly reminded him of Mark's unauthorized return to his home; the break-in of his home by Spectran agents, Jason's use of the Federation's military police along with Tiny's involvement, and the threat of a Federation agent's exposure as Jason, with Mark as his passenger, led the Spectrans on a high speed car chase throughout the streets of Bay City. Adding to the mountain of evidence, before Jason could defend himself, was a video of Jason's blue sports car careening down the city's main strip on Anderson's large office projection screen.

"You and Mark seem to have forgotten the security cameras that are placed strategically throughout the city." Jason could only close his eyes tightly and blew between pursed lips as he dropped his head between his hands. It was barely past 8 am and he hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet. _"It's just too early in the morning for this sort of shit!," _his mind groaned.

Anderson tossed the projection's screen remote on his desk before throwing himself into his chair; his face a staunch mask as he watched the accused rub the grit from his eyes. "I'm waiting for an explanation and it had damn well better be a good one."

A moment or so passed before Jason warily opened his mouth to speak but Anderson cut him off obtrusively. "And don't take me to play with or I will rain down on you like a hail storm so help me." He was still nursing the remnants of this morning's hangover; rubbing at his temple as he spoke.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jason muttered as he straightened in his seat. "Look Chief…I know that I should've come to you and I sort of screwed things up…"

"Sort of Condor?" Anderson echoed, hunching his shoulders. "To even say that you sort of screwed things up implies only a minor mistake; something trivial. What **you** did…" Anderson retorted, placing heavy emphasis on who was obviously at fault, "…and I'm going to put this as eloquently as I can…was unequivocally fucked up!" Adding the latter by slamming his fist on the surface of his large desk. "How dare you keep something of this magnitude from me!"

"Chief let's try to bring the level of tension down a few thousand feet alright?" Jason added, rubbing at his temple with nervous fingers. "I did intend to tell you but …"

"You and Princess have deliberately gone out of your way to protect Mark." Jason opened his mouth and immediately tried to rush to Princess' defense but wasn't quick enough. "And don't you dare try to deny it G-2! My daughter hasn't exactly been forthcoming since Mark moved in with her and I can't help but wonder just how much more in the dark am I being kept!"

Despite the grim set of Anderson's mouth Jason leaned forward, planting his elbows onto his mentor's desk. "Princess has just been trying to help Mark and so have I," he implored. "We want him to know we're there for him. All the way. "

"Neither of you are helping him if you aren't being straight with me," Anderson replied haughtily; his voice tight but now controlled. Pushing himself away from his desk, he leaned heavily back into his seat watching the young man sitting across from him with profoundly perceptive eyes. "Jason, the Eagle is in serious trouble and if I can't count on you to keep me informed then Mark needs to spend the remainder of his rehabilitation at Center Neptune."

"What good would it do him if he feels like an inmate? You might as well push him into a vat of quicksand," Jason replied caustically.

"It would keep his goddamn ass out of getting into any more trouble! That sensor on his ankle is there only to let us know where he is, not what he's thinking!," Anderson shot back. "Do you honestly think that I'd let anything happen to him?"

"Look at what has happened to him!," Jason stood up from his chair, flattening his palms against the desk's surface as he argued his point. "That was a Federation agent that pumped Mark with that experimental derivative…"

"A former Federation agent who defected to Spectra. We had no reason to believe that she would be able to carry out her experiments on any of you once she was severed from the Federation. Most of her data had been destroyed and the rest was filed away as classified. It was only until Mark had been returned to us that we realized we were mistaken."

"Returned barely alive," Jason protested.

"Yes! Barely alive! Which is what I'm trying to get through to you and that stubborn daughter of mine! If you keep withholding information I can't promise that Mark will even be here!"

Jason eyed Anderson suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

This time it was Anderson who was reluctant to speak. Several moments had passed between the two men before he finally motioned for Jason to sit back down into his seat. He lowered his eyes and licked at dry lips as he searched for a way to proceed; the task in itself almost impossible to relay.

"I met with the Federation board yesterday afternoon," he began quietly. "They reviewed Mark's case and have unanimously decided of his transfer. The plan is to provide him with a new identity and to send him to our sister planet, Riga. He would serve as a member of Rigan's elite fighter squadron pilots." Anderson watched the play of emotions over Jason's face as he continued. "You would be Mark's replacement."

After a long silent stare, Jason spoke in a noticeably shaky voice, "Chief… I don't want …I can't…I can't take Mark's place. Not this way. It's just wrong."

"What did you think would happen Jason? Surely you didn't think things would go back to the way they were."

"I mean I knew he'd be suspended. Hell, even suspected a probationary period but to just change his identity and send him to Riga?" Jason shook his head disbelievingly. "No; they can't do this to him Chief. Not Mark, not Mark. And after all that he's sacrificed for the Federation? If anyone deserves a second chance to prove himself he does."

Anderson tee-peed his fingers together, placing his elbows on the surface of his desk. "The final decision lies in the hands of President Kane. She'll be arriving from an East Coast Conference soon. It was my hope to provide her with some insight; allow her to see things from Mark's side and to reassure her of his compliance while he's undergoing therapy." His eyes held a wealth of regret. "It does not look good for him and given what's happened in the past 48 hours, I seriously doubt if President Kane would take Mark's case under consideration and reverse the board's proposal."

Jason covered his mouth briefly with one hand as his eyes scanned Anderson's office somberly. "Mark has no idea what's in store for him does he?"

"Jason, what I have told you has to be kept in the strictest confidence. Mark nor Princess can be told of this. Any more bad news might only disrupt Mark's progress; if for that matter he's making any gains at all."

"Alright; alright. I guess I can understand keeping this from Mark for now, but why can't Princess be told? She would want to know this."

"Because she's too emotionally involved as it is. She's been unable to separate duty from friendship." Jason once again attempted to defend the absent Swan but Anderson held up an intervening hand before the Condor could provide a justifiable explanation. "You have to for that matter."

The little boy in Jason once again resurfaced and he shifted uncomfortably from Anderson's scrutinizing eyes. The older man tapped at his desk's surface, waiting for the denial that never came.

Jason knew that, in truth, he had failed as acting Commander to some degree. If their situations were reversed, Mark wouldn't have hesitated to inform the Chief of Jason's indiscretions despite their friendship. The Eagle would've acted accordingly; putting the welfare of the team first.

The Condor stood up from his seat, clasped his hands together below his waist, and stared straight into the eyes of his mentor. "I'm sorry Chief," he said with the deepest conviction. "I was doing what I thought at the time was best for Mark. I'll admit I relied solely on Princess' feedback but I never intended to keep any of what's been going on from you. I just thought that I could handle things and report it to you at a later time."

Anderson adjusted his eye frames and motioned for Jason to return to his seat once more. "Tell me what you know. How is it that Mark left his session with Dr. Benjamin for his home?"

_Damn it! That would be the first question he'd ask_, Jason thought ruefully. He couldn't revert back to lying after just apologizing for keeping the truth from this man. Anderson had earned the title as _'The Human Bullshit Detector.' _"I believe that Mark probably became upset about something. We kind of had words once he arrived to Prin's beach house. It got kind of nasty between us. Maybe he was talking about it with Dr. Benjamin, got upset, and left," he reluctantly confessed. _Not exactly a lie but not the real reason for Mark splitting his session either. I can't tell him that Mark left because he saw Prin and I together. _

Anderson's brown eyes darkened after that admission. He was immensely irritated; instinctively sensing that Jason was providing him with a half truth but gestured for him to continue.

Jason could see that small vein at Anderson's temple begin to enlarge before his eyes. He heaved a deep breath before responding. "Anyway once I realized that Mark had left the campus I went after him. I mean, I just knew he would go back to his place at the airstrip. I got there just after he did. The place had been torn apart and Mark was standing in the middle of it. We talked for a while. Straightened some things out. It wasn't until we got ready to leave that we realized we were being watched by Spectran agents. We took off in my car but they followed us. I eventually lost them before heading back to Prin's place. I later contacted the Federation's military police to secure Mark's place and had Tiny oversee the assignment."

Anderson shifted in his seat and removed his eyeglasses, nibbling on the tips of his frames. His brows lowered in annoyance before asking, "What's been going on with Mark? How has he been since living with Princess?"

"It's actually hard to fathom Chief. When we were headed for Prin's place Mark had this sort of strange episode. Almost like he was going into withdrawal. Sweating, racing pulse, heavy breathing, nausea. He was fine before we left his place and then after we lost those Spectrans; this thing he has; it hits him hard and fast. Princess mentioned that it's happened before and that she nurses him through it. The reaction seems to last a few hours and then it eases off. Mark manages to come through the worst of it unscathed."

Anderson replaced his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. "Hmmm. I had my suspicions of how Mark was getting along without proper monitoring. He and Princess should be arriving shortly. I intend to talk to them both but separately."

"Chief I don't understand. You suspected Mark might be having these problems but you didn't try to help him?"

"On the contrary. I expected Princess to report to me any changes in Mark's condition during his stay with her. I had no reason to doubt her, or so I thought, until now. We were led to believe that Mark was recovering from an alien derivative. Now it looks as if he's been given more than just a drug."

Anderson stood up and walked toward the nearest window with his hands in his pants pockets, his eyes sweeping over the IFPP's expansive campus. "I was always afraid of something like this happening. Valeria has created a toxin of sorts that has infiltrated Mark's central nervous system; blocking his body's proper response to acute stress levels. Whatever she gave him has disrupted his cerebonic implant's ability to function at maximum efficiency; inhibiting it's defense mechanism."

Anderson sighed and leaned his hand against the window's rectangular pane. "There's a structure within the brain; it's called an amygdala; located within the temporal lobe. It controls fear and anxiety. Dr. Baxter and I believe that whatever substance Valeria has given Mark is inhibiting it's ability to suppress normally. What would be considered a normal response to stress could manifest itself to extremes."

"So a potentially threatening situation would cause Mark to behave the way he has," Jason concluded. "When he gets upset, his body reacts in extreme defense mode.'

"That's right. Accelerated heart and lung action, constriction of the body's blood vessels causing intense pain, heated body temperature. But if Mark gets angry then his behavior could manifest into extreme aggression and combativeness. If this proves to be the case then Valeria's rendered Mark incapable of transmutation without causing him more harm." He turned to look at Jason over his shoulder. "Of course this is all a theory but Dr. Baxter and I have discussed this in length; long before Keye hacked into the Federation's classified files for information regarding Valeria's research."

"Did I forget to mention that?," Jason questioned while scratching at his nape.

Anderson was interrupted before he could respond to that remark by the buzz of his telephone. He rounded his desk and responded curtly, his fierce brown eyes still focused on a very sheepish looking G-2 as he pushed on the phone's speaker mode. "Yes Colleen?"

"_The rest of the team is here Chief Anderson,"_ his secretary answered.

"Thank you." Anderson released the button before sitting on the edge of his desk. "As far as I'm concerned G-2 this conversation is over. From now on you report to me any and everything that you see or hear. Are we clear on this?"

Jason rose from his seat and nodded obediently. "Yes sir. Crystal." He'd gotten off lightly; Anderson's reprimand could've been far worse.

"You're free to go," Anderson tilted his head in his panel door's direction.

Jason started to turn on his heel but couldn't bring himself to leave without asking Anderson some pertinent questions. "Chief, you're going to do everything you can to help Mark get out of this mess right? You don't think he deserves what the Federation board has planned for him do you?"

Anderson looked at Jason thoughtfully; leaning an elbow onto his thigh as he sat on his desk's edge. "No, I don't think that Mark deserves to be exiled. As for my helping him; I've never walked on water but I've been known to create a miracle or two in my lifetime." At this a small yet humorless smile was exchanged between the two men. "I promise to do everything that I can to help him. I'm going to see to it that Mark has a PET scan to determine the degree of damage that might've been caused by Valeria's derivative. I strongly believe that we can correct what might be an imbalance."

Seemingly satisfied, Jason nodded once more and headed for the office's exit.

"Jason." He stopped and turned at the sound of the authoritative voice calling his name; one brow dubiously raised.

"Mark couldn't ask for a better best friend," he remarked commendably. "I hope he realizes that."

"Thanks Chief," Jason answered gratefully. There were times that he felt he needed confirmation of that statement and this was one of them. He gestured with a slight nod before leaving Anderson's office.

As the panel doors slid open, the remaining G-Force members turned their heads to see Jason crossing Anderson's threshold. He was immediately flanked by both Keye and Tiny; each eager for Jason's feedback after his meeting with the Chief.

"Well what happened? What does he know?" Tiny began hammering as soon as the panel doors slid closed.

"Everything. He knows everything," Jason answered, capturing and holding Princess' look of concern from across the room. Mark took in the exchange from the opposite side; his expression indicating no surprise at Jason's recent statement. Not that Anderson's anger mattered much to him anyway. In Mark's mind it was the Chief who had a lot to answer for; his face reflecting his contempt.

"I knew it; I freakin' knew it," Keye griped. "My old man is like _'The Oracle'_ from those _**'Matrix' **_movies. He knows you'll screw up before '_**you know'**_ that you'll screw up!"__

"I took the brunt of his anger but things have simmered down. He wants to see you both," Jason implied with grey eyes darting from Princess to Mark. "But separately."

It was Princess' turn to look nervous, biting her bottom lip in the process. She'd knowingly kept things from her father and now she'd have to answer for the deception.

Sensing her hesitancy, Mark stepped towards Anderson's panel doors but Princess seized his arm before he could go any further. Not that her confidence had been restored but she felt it best if she entered ahead of Mark. "Don't," she responded with a shake of her head.

Her voice was calm; her intent evident. She would enter first. In fairness to her father; Anderson should be forewarned not only of Mark's continued anger towards him but of his reasons behind it. After that one spoken word Princess closed the distance between herself and Anderson's office. The panel doors slid open upon detecting her presence and immediately closed behind her.

As if on cue, all blameful eyes turned in Mark's direction. Mark returned the team's accusing stares with equal fervor.

"You're all looking at me as if though I pissed in your Cheerios this morning." He walked with outstretched hands towards the trio. "Care to share?," Mark asked with a distinct level of cynicism in his tone.

Jason, Tiny, and Keye looked tensely from one to the other. Remembering the talk he'd had with Chief Anderson earlier, Jason felt it best to tread carefully. He didn't want to cause Mark any additional stress.

The thick silence hovering in the room didn't last long. But before Jason could speak, Keye impulsively spoke ahead of him. "Yeah. Yeah I've got something to get off of my chest."

"Keye," Jason warned as he reached for the younger member of the team but Keye irritatingly brushed him off as he walked hurriedly towards Mark.

Mark held up an intervening hand. "No. Let him have his say Jase." Jason noted there was something in Mark's eyes that didn't match his willingness to let Keye speak. It was almost predatory in nature.

"You know I'm getting tired of walking on eggshells around you," he spoke doggedly pointing his fingers towards the accused. "Having to watch what I say or what I do because it might cause you some degree of emotional pain. My sister is in there with our father; defending herself and you to him. We're being forced to watch your every fucking move because you can't be trusted to be alone you simple son-of-a-bitch."

Keye then stood directly in front of the suspended commander. His face mirrored nervous irritation but his voice was filled with defiance. He had never faced up to Mark this way before. "Princess found you half dead in Sector 9 with a Spectran prostitute and then all but resuscitated you back to life. I watched her sit by your hospital bed day after day praying for your return as our commander. She let you live with her during your recovery although my dad disapproved of it because she believed you'd get your shit together. My father has been good to you. He all but raised you as his own and this is how you repay him…"

With a suddenness that threw Keye off balance, Mark grabbed him by his shirt collar and violently hoisted Keye up against the nearest wall. Jason and Tiny hadn't seen it coming. Their bodies were now on high alert.

Jason shouted, "Mark are you crazy?"

"Shut up!," Mark commanded sharply over his shoulder while keeping Keye a prisoner within his grasp.

"For Pete's sake, he's just a kid!" Tiny shot back readying himself to come to Keye's defense but Jason held him back.

"I said shut up!," Mark demanded angrily, all trace of his previous composure gone. His dark blue eyes had morphed into disturbing slits of resentment. "I'm not going to hurt him."

He turned his attention back to Keye; his voice deceptively calm, his face only an inch away from the dazed young officer. "But I am going to drop some knowledge in your ear you little shit. If your father had been half the man you seem to think he is then he wouldn't have lied to me all of these years. Pretending to befriend my family and taking the place of my biological father. Knowing of my father's existence and keeping it from my family. Watching my mother die from cancer and allowing my brother to get killed all before telling either of them that my father was still alive."

Mark clutched tighter at Keye's shirtfront as his voice rose to match his temper; shaking his captive with every enunciated reference of himself. "If anyone should be compensated for their trouble it should be me! I was lied to! I was kept in the dark for over 18 years of my life! I owe Anderson nothing! I gave my life to the Federation and got nothing but bullshit in return for my loyalty!"

Mark maintained his hold on the boy; the two watching each other with turbulent eyes. "You only know what your father wants you to know," he concluded venomously.

As abruptly as Mark had loosened his grip did Keye take advantage of his sudden release and swung a clenched fist at Mark's jaw in retaliation for the things said against his father. He'd barely clipped Mark's chin before the Eagle skillfully grabbed his right wrist; twisted the limb painfully behind the teenager and slammed him cheek-side against the very wall that previously aided in imprisoning him. Keye whimpered like a wounded animal.

"Alright already! That's enough! Damn it let him go!" Jason wrapped his arms around Mark's middle, pulling him away while Tiny disengaged Keye from his vice-like grip.

The situation had left both men trembling in its aftermath; each drawing in lungs full of air; blue eyes colliding with brown. Keye silently admitted defeat, with Tiny's urging, as he held onto his sore arm while attempting to catch his breath; his chest heaving indignantly. His cheek was red and stinging as a result of Mark's submission hold; his moist brown eyes filled with anger and disillusionment as the young man he'd looked up to like an older brother stared back unapologetically. The look on Mark's face was a quiet storm.

Jason maneuvered himself in front of Mark; keeping him at arm's length with the splay of his hand firmly on Mark's chest. "Keye there are things going on here that you don't understand." He then turned to Tiny and commanded quietly, "Get him out of here before Anderson comes out of his office." There was no chance of that happening soon; with the walls being soundproof and Princess having just entered. But Jason didn't want to chance it. Keye needed time to cool down and he needed distance from Mark.

"Come on Keye. Let's go have that arm checked out." Tiny placed a protective arm around Keye's shoulders and coaxed him towards the set of larger panel doors that led them out of the gathering room.

"What the hell was that?" Jason demanded the moment after their exit; shouting at Mark as he settled himself on the arm of the room's only sofa. "Have you lost what's left of your mind? Wailing on Keye! A sixteen year old kid? Anderson's kid?"

With his head in his hands and eyes tightly closed, Mark spoke through gritted teeth. "If Keye wants to play grown up then he should expect to be treated like a grown up." He didn't need this right now. He could literally feel his own blood coursing hot within his veins; the very force of it causing his entire body to throb, ricocheting from vessel to vessel. In a defensive gesture Mark folded his arms and rocked himself back and forth, trying to alleviate nervous tension.

"There's no fucking excuse for what you did! Keye is sixteen! Hell that's the only excuse he needs!" Jason thundered back as he made his way towards Mark. "You are supposed to be better than that! He's just as angry at you as you are angry with Anderson! You're the big brother he never had; the commander he placed on a pedestal! He's confused and he's hurting because we almost lost you!"

"I never asked to be placed on a pedestal!" Mark shouted in exasperation.

"When you were chosen to lead us you were!" Jason fired back; his anger eclipsing that of his best friend.

He continued to pace the floor in frustration. "Come on man you've got to give me something to work with here. I just took a bullet in the ass for you. I can't have you going off like a loose cannon." Jason then stopped, as the realization dawned on him, and put both hands to his hips. "If you could do that to Keye," he remarked, "…then who's to say you wouldn't do it to Princess."

Mark winced at that and then looked up. "I would never hurt Princess," he responded solemnly. "You know that."

Regretfully Jason eyed his troubled friend a few moments longer before averting his eyes. "I can't take that chance Mark. I can't trust you to do the right thing. You've become your own worst enemy."

What followed next was an eerie and demonstrative silence. An air of finality that would test their lifelong friendship. Having factored in his talk with Chief Anderson and witnessing Mark's irrational and dangerous behavior towards his fellow officer, Jason reluctantly came to his own conclusion.

The Condor squared his shoulders and stood ramrod straight as he spoke the following to the Eagle in an decisively authoritative tone, in an attempt to mask his true feelings. "As acting Commander of G-Force, I will make the recommendation to Chief Anderson that you complete the remainder of your rehabilitation at Center Neptune where you will be confined until it is deemed that you are no longer a threat to yourself nor anyone else. Effective immediately."

_**Thanks for reading…**_


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